The Monster You Know
by Faye Dartmouth
Summary: Cal and Niko lose each other. Again.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Monster You Know 1/5

Summary: Cal and Niko lose each other. Again.

A/N: I wrote this SO long ago. I actually meant to put this out before the last book was released to this series but, then, I sort of never did. It kept getting put on the back burner and with the official release of the next book imminent, I decided to get this off my computer before I missed another opportunity. This takes place sometime after the third book, so minor spoilers for all of the first three. Beta's by geminigrl11 and sendintheclowns.

Disclaimer: Rob Thurman is the owner of these lovely characters.

-o-

It was all Niko's fault.

Just because Nik was older, just because Nik had protected him his entire life, just because Nik could beat the crap out of him with one hand behind his back--just because he was _Niko_, Cal was supposed to do every damn thing Niko said.

The fact that Niko was _right_ was another issue entirely. Still didn't mean Cal had to _like_ it.

It also didn't mean that Cal wouldn't cave to his older brother, nearly every time, without fail. He'd tried resisting from time to time, tried digging his feet in, but Nik had a five year head start on him, and even Cal's time in Auphe hell couldn't make up for that.

So when Niko said he had to get his suit dry-cleaned, Cal obliged. Not that he wanted to wear the suit--hell, not that he even wanted to _own_ the thing. But Promise had picked it out and bought it for him, and Cal figure it was probably the most expensive thing he'd ever owned. And it was his own fault he'd gotten it dirty on their last job. His brother had told him it'd just be an evening of investigation at one of Promise's charity events, nothing more than that. Something about weird maulings uptown. How was he supposed to expect the damn revenants to show up at the place? He'd managed to kill two of them, but not without traipsing through the back alley first and ending up in a trash bin.

Niko had scowled at him, but Cal had felt good that at least he'd remembered not to draw his knife until he got _outside_ the building. Nonetheless, his older brother hadn't even gotten a hair out of place, and had made him take a cab home since apparently rolling around in garbage made for a rather smelly date.

So maybe it wasn't Niko's fault, but it sure felt good to blame him. Though, really, it wasn't like Niko had it much better. Niko, after all, was saddled with Cal for a younger brother, and Cal sort of figured he'd spend the rest of his life trying to pay off that debt, even if it was a price that his brother would never dream of asking him pay. Not to mention that Cal's supernatural exploits and erratic chasing down of revenants through alleys undoubtedly just upped his big brother's anxiety. Cal could be twenty and experienced and yet Niko still worried over him like a first-time-mother hen.

Besides, Niko was his _brother_. They'd been through thick and thin. So picking up the dry cleaning? Wearing a suit? All came with the territory. It was better than having to pull Niko from the belly of a troll or watch his brother be nearly sacrificed to fulfill some freak's quest for power. In fact, when he thought about it like that, doing the mundane tasks felt _good_. So good that Cal figured maybe he'd do his own version of grocery shopping--picking up carry out.

The Chinese place Nik liked was only a few blocks from their apartment. Glancing at his watch, Cal could tell that it was the perfect time for dinner--not too early to catch Niko not hungry, but not too late that his older brother would have taken it upon himself to finish dinner. While Cal would prefer a pizza or a chilidog, he knew Niko preferred the Chinese--all the veggies and brown rice did a little health-conscious ninja good. Besides, Cal's desire to do good wasn't about satisfying his own taste buds. It was about Niko. Today, anyway.

Which meant choking down green cardboard drenched in sweet and sour sauce. He could just pick up a few crab rangoons to tide him over (until he could have some _real_ food--like a double cheeseburger, extra onions and maybe a nice side of grease-soaked fries).

With his suit slung over his shoulder, he took the side streets, winding his way to the Chinese place. The evening was warm and pleasant, and damn it all if Cal didn't feel good. Niko was in school, things with Promise were going well, they were actually _earning_ money now, and they hadn't seen an Auphe in nearly a month. As far as things went for the Leandros brothers, things were great.

He was practically whistling when he finally opened the door to the Chinese restaurant. The place was tiny, nothing more than a hole in the wall, but it was oddly clean, which was probably another reason Niko preferred the place. In fact, they'd been there often enough that Cal recognized the girl behind the counter, and she smiled when she saw him.

"Let me guess," she said, her accent heavy and a dimple crinkling her cheek. "Snow pea pods and water chestnuts with brown rice, and sweet and sour pork with fried rice. The usual."

Cal grinned despite himself. She was cute, and probably about his age. She'd been trying to flirt the best she could, but he wasn't looking for a girlfriend. There'd only been one girl he'd ever let close, and that had nearly ended with disaster. Still, a few smiles never hurt, especially when it got him a few extra fortune cookies on the house.

"Sounds about right," he said. "And throw in an order of crab rangoons."

She smiled, turning her attention to operating the archaic cash register. Just as she was adding in the crab rangoons, the bells on the door jingled.

Cal straightened and turned, almost surprised. In all his visits, he'd never actually seen another customer. It didn't seem the place did much business (but really, they served vegetarian Chinese food, so no real surprise there).

Cal had barely caught sight of the guy who walked in when he realized something was wrong. After a lifetime on the run, he'd learned to sense danger, almost inherently, and in one instant, he felt his light mood vanish into tension.

Then he got a good look at the guy. He was skinny--no, downright scrawny. His hair was overgrown and unkempt. The hair on his face was in a worse state, scraggly and patchy, only accentuating the pale pallor beneath. Underneath the baggy clothes, Cal could see the guy shaking, and his armpits were damp, his brow was slick with sweat.

Cal had lived in the city long enough to recognized an addict, especially an addict in need of a fix.

On top of all that, Cal could spot a robbery when he was _in_ one. The gun, after all, was kind of a dead giveaway.

It took the girl behind the counter only a second longer than it did Cal to figure that out, and she screamed at the sight of the gun.

Cal cringed, watching the guy in the doorway shake harder and approach.

"Shut up!" the scraggly freak yelled, his voice hoarse and strained.

There was a blade in Cal's pocket, but he didn't dare move for it. The guy was twitchy, fingers all slick with sweat, and that wasn't a chance Cal could take. Not with the gun trained on the girl. His sense of self-preservation was high, but not so high as to condemn an innocent girl to death. Cal had no experience with negotiation (at least not the calm variety, he preferred the aggressive kind, himself--a nice right hook always set a good tone), but he didn't really see as he had much choice unless he wanted get the place a new ventilation system.

"Easy," Cal said, holding his arms out gently.

"Give me all the money!" the guy yelled, stepping closer, the gun bobbing and weaving.

This order seemed simple enough, and had it been Cal, he'd have already had it all out and ready to go. Unfortunately, the girl was sobbing now, nearly hyperventilating.

"Now!" the guy screamed now, charging forward, barely three feet away from the counter.

Cal suppressed an urge to curse. He glanced at the girl, crying and fumbling uselessly at the register. Then he looked again at the guy, desperate and strung out and ready to shoot.

Niko would never forgive him.

But Cal didn't have a choice. There wasn't time for the blade, there wasn't time to tackle the drugged out lunatic, there wasn't time for anything. Anything except throwing himself in front of the girl and hope like hell that blood scared the guy off.

There wasn't thought after that. Just action. The girl pounding the register, the guy pulling the trigger, and Cal moving.

A bullet cracked through the air, fast and loud, and it was all a blur of downward motion. He was falling, fast and hard, but he didn't feel himself hit the ground. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything for a moment--just the counter at his back, the tickle of his hair on his face.

He blinked. The world was hazy now, the clean interior of the restaurant suddenly blurred and dingy. All sound had vanished, and his vision was tunneling. As he watched the legs of the junkie walk away, he saw the only color there was.

Red. Bright red. Everywhere. All down the front of him, on the floor.

And then feeling came back, sharp and deep, soul-sucking.

The darkness was stronger now, deeper, as the pain grew to be too much, so much more than he'd expected, and he wondered if Niko could fix this, if there'd been this much blood before, if he had any blood left.

He thought of Niko, blonde hair, his katana, how clean he kept the apartment and the carton of wheatgrass juice that Cal found so ridiculous.

It didn't seem right to die here like this. The Auphe would be jealous. Hell, so would Abby.

But God, Niko would kill him. Niko would just kill him.

If he wasn't dead already.

-o-

Cal had many faults. As Cal's older brother, no one knew that better than Niko. He had, after all, basically raised Cal, and it had been Niko who had harped on every single one of those flaws.

For starters, Cal had no initiative. Getting Cal to undertake any project, was a project, one that required extensive force (or the threat of it, anyhow) or sheer bribery (often of the most nauseating variety considering his brother's penchant for greasy food and horrific TV). Getting out of bed, doing the laundry, taking a shower, getting a job--these were all things Niko was not entirely certain would occur were it not for his own interference. Cal simply preferred to whittle away his time, sleeping, eating, watching TV. Usually in that order.

Cal was also purposefully ignorant at times. Niko had crossed paths with many people who simply did not know any better. Oblivious in their daily lives and blind to the peril around them. To a certain extent, while Niko had no patience for such people, he could forgive them. They did not know what dangers they faced. He could surmise that if they did, they might behave accordingly.

Cal had no such excuse. Not that Cal was dangerously ignorant. On the contrary, few people in the world were as aware of danger as his younger brother. But Cal never saw the need to dig deeper in most things in life. To Cal, books were doorstops and coasters, not opportunities to grow, to learn. It wasn't just knowledge Niko sought in his studies; it was safety. It was preparedness. Cal seemed to be under the impression that as long as he was well-armed, he was as safe as he would get, and chose to leave most other things to a need-to-know basis.

It was all, Niko supposed, a factor of Cal's inherent laziness. The younger boy had never been as keen to respond to structure or discipline, no matter how hard Niko worked to ensure the contrary. Part of Niko presumed it was a self-defense tactic, Cal's only way of coping. He wasn't sure his younger brother could handle more intensity when it came to who he was and what was out there. The fact that he was half-monster was detrimental enough. Cal's way of fighting was at times to not fight at all.

Not that Niko agreed with that. But he could still understand it. His brother could be a directionless, ignorant sloth of a being, and there were many other negatives Niko could add to that list. One thing Cal was not, however, was habitually tardy.

In another life, maybe. Were they not continually hunted, constantly in danger, then Niko imagined that Cal's sense of timeliness would not be so keen. But the way they'd grown up, the constant vigilance, the perpetual fear--it made them value punctuality and open lines of communication. Because being late wasn't just staying for an extra beer or missing the subway. It could mean something much more sinister, and neither brother wanted to put the other through that kind of anxiety, not when they could help it.

Which made Niko worry. Because if Cal was late...

Then it probably meant that Cal _couldn't _make it on time.

Niko sighed, pacing off the distance between the kitchen and the living room again. It could be innocuous. Cal wasn't even _that _late. Fifteen minutes in the city was not exactly unheard of. There could be traffic, he could have gotten dinner, he might have ran into someone he knew.

Still, Cal said he'd be home at 5:30. Niko glanced again at his watch. It ticked as it toward 5:47.

Cal would have called.

Frustrated, Niko pulled his cell phone out, flipping it open. He'd already called Cal once, not to mention the number of times he'd checked for any missed calls or messages. Needless to say, his efforts had been fruitless.

Dialing Cal's number, he did not cease his pacing.

It was unlike him, this nervousness. Niko believed in calm, in staying cool-headed. But he was not cool-headed when it came to Cal. He'd seen his little brother be threatened too many times to even pretend he could remain that way.

The phone rang once, twice, three times, before slipping to voicemail.

Niko swore, tossing the phone savagely to the kitchen table.

Something was wrong. And Niko wasn't about to sit there and do nothing. Cal meant too much to him, and there was simply too much out there after his little brother for Niko to remain passive.

Scribbling out a note for Cal in case his brother should return, he checked the blades hidden on his body, donned his jacket to hide a few more for good measure, and set out to look for his brother.

-o-

There were voices, hazy and distant. They sounded loud--angry, maybe; it was a little hard to tell. They weren't mean, though they certainly weren't welcoming, either. Mostly, they were foreign, unfamiliar. Not Goodfellow, Promise, George. Not Niko.

There were hands, too, cold and unnatural, all over. It was like being molested by a giant centipede. He wanted to pull away, to stop them, to do _something_, but it was too hard. In fact, he realized he couldn't really feel his body at all. There was detached sensation, but nothing immediate, and his brain was simply too far away from his body to make any difference.

This wasn't good. If Niko had taught him anything, it was to always be in control of a situation, always be active, vigilant, always be...he couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember? Niko would kick his ass for being so damn forgetful, for not applying himself, for being lazy.

If only Cal knew where he was, what was happening, why his body was so heavy, why the voices were so frantic. _Lazy_. Sleep sounded good. No matter what Nik said, sleep seemed like the best course of action.

Pain lanced through him suddenly, and his awareness jolted, ripped from detachment by the agony of it. Fire. Consuming him, starting in his chest, and it was like dying (as if he needed to try that _again_).

"He's feeling it," someone was saying and Cal wished he could scream at him, could see him, because oh, God, he just couldn't handle this.

"Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?" Another voice now, closer, too close, too loud, echoing in his ear.

Cal turned his head.

"Can you tell me your name? Sir? Is there anyone I can call?"

Niko. Niko should be here. Niko should always be here. Niko could make this better. Niko always made it better. Hell, Niko wouldn't even trust him to be in this kind of situation by himself.

What kind of situation was this anyway? Where was he? What had happened?

Panic gripped him and he wanted to move, but the hands were back, stronger now, restraining him, and he felt tears burn behind his eyelids.

"He's going out," one of the voices said, and Cal felt it wash over him with a sense of futility. He couldn't do this. He didn't know how. He didn't know anything.

The world was fading again, faster now, and his consciousness waned until it was gone.

-o-

It was dark when Niko finally allowed himself to panic.

There'd be no crying, no fretful moaning--nothing of that sort. Niko wasn't prone to that and he never would be. He was confident that he never would have survived as long as he had with Cal's parentage and his own riding heavily on his back if he was given to that kind of useless emotion.

No, panic for Niko meant itching to slice something up, desperate for someone to threaten--all based on an overwhelming fear that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

He'd been to the dry cleaners, who said Cal had showed up--the suit was indeed gone. He'd checked with some of Cal's favorite spots, though admittedly, they were few. There was a bar or two Cal sometimes visited, but no one had seen his dark-haired little brother. Not even the corner chili dog vendor could remember seeing Cal pass by.

Cal had, it seemed, just disappeared.

Which meant he was taken--by force, no doubt. All brotherly kidding aside, Niko knew Cal was well-trained; he made sure of it. There was little that could take Cal down, although Niko had to admit that his kid brother had probably not been well-armed. Of course, they both were always in possession of some form or weaponry, but for a trip to the dry cleaner, Cal would have had no cause to carry anything extensive.

Nor would he have been expecting an attack.

Pacing the block in front of their apartment building, Niko hated to admit that he was at a dead end. He'd scoured the various routes to and from the dry cleaner and come up with nothing. He could find no trace of his brother. Terror was mounting in his stomach, rippling through him, and he was struggling to control it. Living with Cal was a trial in and of itself; life without Cal left Niko powerless and stupefied.

Years ago, he would have walked the ground endlessly, hoping, waiting. He would have racked his mind for any clue, any hint. The panic would have driven him mad, just as it had when the Auphe had taken Cal back to Tumulus with them when Cal was fourteen.

But Niko's days of going it alone were over. He didn't have to do this alone, and he wouldn't. It wouldn't do him any good, and it certainly wouldn't help Cal.

Digging his phone out of his pocket yet again, he called the first number he could think of. He heard the other line ring once, twice, before a smooth voice answered. "Hello?"

"Promise," he said, surprised to find himself breathless. "It's Cal."

No other words would come. No other words were necessary.

There was a tight pause, then her voice came through, solid and unwavering. "I'll meet you at your apartment."

The call disconnected, but Niko couldn't bring himself to move. His fingers gripped the phone tightly, pressing it against his ear, wishing that there was more, that somehow all of this would bring Cal back.

-o-

He was still standing in front of his apartment building when Promise arrived. He did not notice how she arrived--he barely noticed her at all. But she was there, strong and quiet, taking him gently by the arm and pulling him inside. She had barely gotten him upstairs when Goodfellow followed behind them.

"Any word?" he asked, sounding flustered. He was wearing a green silk shirt and looked as though he'd come from work.

"Nothing yet," Promise answered quietly.

Niko allowed himself to sink to the couch, Promise's hand still on his shoulder. Such inaction wasn't like him, but he could not find the will to move. Cal was gone, and Niko had no idea why or how. It was so unexpected, so sudden--he simply did not know how to handle it.

Catatonia was a phase of his grieving process. After Cal had been taken to Tumulus, Niko had spent an hour screaming and tearing among the remains of the trailer before the inevitability of Cal's disappearance had shaken him. Then, he didn't move for the two days it took for Cal to return.

That time, Cal had fallen out of the sky and come back to him. Scared, helpless, and terrified, yes. But Cal had come back.

When Darkling had taken Cal, Niko's catatonia had been brief; a mere hour, maybe less. With Auphe body parts strewn around them, Niko had sunk to his knees, his katana tight in his hand as he'd stared out the broken window where Darkling had fled. It had been Robin who had shaken him out of it, asking him what he wanted to do, if he was okay.

He'd then proceeded to go on a one week rampage, shaking down everyone he could think of, anyone at all.

There'd been purpose then, something to follow up on.

This time--

This time Niko didn't know what to do. That helplessness shut him down.

"Is he okay?" Goodfellow's voice asked, quiet and tentative.

Promise's hand ran over Niko shoulder, rubbing his back. "I believe this is rather a shock to him," she replied.

"No leads?"

"None that I am aware of," Promise said. "He hasn't told me what happened."

"Just that Cal's gone," Goodfellow concluded.

The couch sagged next to him, and Niko could smell Goodfellow's cologne.

These were his friends, his allies. They were here to help. But Niko didn't know how to open his mouth and explain it to them. Because Niko didn't have a clue what happened.

He'd always _seen_ it before. He'd always _been_ there. There'd always been a place to start.

This time, there were no starting points. Just Niko, two allies, and one missing little brother.

He sucked in a strangled breath, blinking, and turning his eyes towards Promise. She was looking down at him, compassion in her soft purple eyes. Her clothing was immaculate, as always, and in a different situation, Niko may have been aroused by the tight curves of fabric her on her small frame. "Can you tell us what happened?" she asked.

"Cal went out to pick up the dry cleaning," he said finally, surprised by the scratchiness of his own voice. "And he never came back."

She exchanged a glance with Goodfellow, his face darkening. "He didn't call?"

"No call, no message, no trace," Niko confirmed, looking down at his hands. He felt so useless, so at a loss. "Just nothing."

-o-

He told the story again, the same sparse details coming out. Promise listened intently, her eyes deep and probing. The puck sat to Niko's other side, equally absorbed in the perplexing tale.

"Perhaps our young Caliban found some type of female companionship?" Goodfellow suggested. "He has been more prone to that these days."

Two nights out hardly constituted a pattern. "He would have called."

Goodfellow nodded wearily, but seemed unable to give up so quickly. "He didn't go into work?"

"Ishiah has not seen him," Niko replied simply, unfazed by Goodfellow's questions. They were ones he'd asked himself hours ago. Ones that added up to the same answer. "He is simply gone."

"He does have enemies," Robin said with a sigh.

Enemies, yes. They all had enemies, vengeful and creative ones at that. "There has been no sign of the Auphe," Niko said. There were always signs with them; sightings, clues. They may seem to come out of nowhere, but usually not without some kind of foreshadowing.

The puck pushed himself to his feet. "Let me make some calls," he said. "Perhaps someone has heard something that can be of use to us."

Niko gave no indication that he'd heard Robin, but the puck didn't seem to need any. He disappeared out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

Bowing his head, Niko tried to collect his thoughts. The hour was surely late, or perhaps, more accurately, very early, and his brain felt strained, pushed to its limits. How had an entire _night _passed with him still having no knowledge of what had happened to Cal?

His frustration swelled. "It makes no sense," he ground out through a tight throat.

"Try to relax," Promise said, sidling into the spot Goodfellow had vacated. Her silken voice was always soothing, but Niko could hear a measured quality about it now. "It is unlikely that Cal's disappearance is random. We merely need to figure out which one of your many enemies has a reason to act on their grudge now."

There was logic to that, a lot of logic, but Niko did not want to be swayed by it. Not when Cal was missing, not when he was just _gone_ without a trace. Before, Niko had known why, there'd been trails, reasons, something to act on. Now...

Now there was just nothing.

He clenched his jaw, pulling in on himself. He did not want Promise's comfort. He did not want Goodfellow's assurances. He wanted Cal.

Promise, however, seemed unwilling to yield. "Niko, this is not your fault," she said finally.

His eyes flashed to her, surprised.

She was looking at him, steadfast and unwavering. "No matter what happened to Cal, it is not your fault."

They were words of comfort, but he refused them. He shook his head. "Cal is my brother."

"And he is a full-grown man," she insisted. "No matter how rarely he acts the part."

"But I _know_ what's after him."

"And so does he," Promise finished for him. "Caliban is very aware of what he's up against. And, to be frank, the enemies are more his than yours."

"Which is _exactly _why he needs me."

She sighed a little, her eyes going soft. "Do you trust him that little?"

It was a low blow, but Niko would not be felled by it. "It's not about trust," he said. "I trust Cal with my life. Just like he trusts me with his. We never would have survived without each other."

Dropping her head, she seemed to be resigning herself to something. When she looked up, she was smiling sadly. "He wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Niko's heart lodged in his throat. He knew Cal wouldn't want that. Cal had never blamed him for anything, but that didn't change Niko's duty, Niko's job. "Promise," he said, and he hated the way his voice wavered, "I don't protect Cal just because he needs it. I protect Cal because _I_ need him. I need my brother. I have loved him since the day he was born. He has been the only thing worthwhile in my life, and if anything were ever to happen to him..." His voice trailed off, stifled by emotion. Steeling himself, he swallowed and looked up with watery eyes. "If anything ever happened to him, I wouldn't want to go on. It's that simple."

Promise said nothing, merely held his gaze, and neither of them seemed willing to break the eye contact. He needed her to understand this, to get it. Because if she was going to be part of his life, then she needed to see just what Cal meant to him. That between Cal and anything else, there was no contest. He'd pick Cal every time, without a shred of regret. That had never been in question before--there'd never been any need.

That was before Promise. Before he learned how to open himself up to other people. And he loved Promise. Her company was invigorating and refreshing, and he did not wish to lose her. If anything happened to her, his wrath would be fast and furious, but it wouldn't destroy him. Not like losing Cal.

She nodded. "We'll find him, Niko," she said, and her voice was resolute, if a little mournful. "But first, you need to sleep. You haven't slept since he's been missing, and it is nearly morning."

Niko opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her hand.

"There is no use arguing. Either you go willing to bed, or I will drag you there myself," she threatened, and somehow Niko knew she wasn't joking.

"How can I sleep when I don't know where he is?"

"How do you expect to find him when your mind is muddled from sleep?"

"I've gone on less."

She shrugged her shoulders minutely. "Yes, but you haven't gone on less after drinking two sleeping pills."

Niko's brow furrowed. "But I would never--"

"I know," she said simply. "That's why I took the liberty of doing it for you."

Betrayal flashed through him, and he pushed up from the couch. "How could you?" he demanded. "I need to be awake, I need to keep looking--"

She seemed nonplussed. "You need to be alert. You will be much more effective after you've slept. You can be angry with me if you wish. However, I think your time would be better spent sleeping so you are capable of focusing on how to find your brother. I will be here when you wake. I'll ask Goodfellow to bring food and any new leads he can think of, and we will resume the search promptly when you awaken."

Niko scowled. He hated being manipulated, and he hated even more that he hadn't seen it coming. He'd trusted Promise, had let her into his confidence, and she'd abused that trust. Worse, she had abused it by slipping him pills, something to dampen his body's alertness.

She was standing now, a hand around his waist. "Come," she said gently. "You need to rest."

Niko wanted to argue, to fight back, but he could feel the effect now, feel the pull toward sleep.

He was moving now, without his consent, toward the bedroom, he recognized dimly. Then he was sprawled up on it, careful hands running through his hair.

"I hope you'll forgive me," she whispered softly to him. "I hope you can see that I'll fight for you like you fight for Cal. I love you that much."

There was a gentle kiss upon his forehead, then nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed part one. Just a bit longer until the new book is out! All other notes are in the first chapter :)

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

He awoke to the smell of warm pancakes and the sound of muffled talking.

It was his habit to rise without hesitation. He was not one for lingering; staying in bed a minute longer was just another minute wasted. But today--today he found it hard to move.

His body felt heavy and warm, as though his limbs were leaden. Sunlight glowed from behind the pulled shade, and Niko distantly wondered what time it was. Sleeping late was Cal's domain, not his.

At the thought of Cal, sleep vanished from his mind, and he bolted upright. He was still sluggish, but determined now, because the previous day had come crashing back on him with frightening clarity.

He could remember sending his little brother out to pick up his dry cleaning--Cal's lone suit was necessary for the upcoming gig, and Niko had been studying. Too busy to be bothered with an errand that was Cal's to begin with. Forcing his brother to behave like an actual adult was not something Niko felt guilty about.

But Cal never came home. And that _was_ something Niko felt guilty about.

That had actually been two days ago, now that he remembered correctly. The first night Cal hadn't come back, Niko hadn't slept, hadn't even considered resting. He never would have, if not for Promise's intervention.

Then he remembered the drugged drink, and his brow furrowed. He liked strong women, but he was not sure he could condone a woman who dared get between his brother and him.

Finally pushing himself out of bed, though, he had to admit, he did feel better. The hazy panic of the previous day was subdued now, and he felt in control at least, capable. His vision seemed clear and his mind alert. These were necessary things if he planned on finding his brother.

Out of bed, he shrugged out of his shirt and pulled on a clean one. Without looking, he pulled his blonde hair back, tying it off behind his head. He had work to do, and he couldn't be bothered to put any more time into things as petty as appearance.

In the kitchen, he found Promise nursing a cup of tea, flipping easily through a newspaper.

He bristled at the sight of her.

Without looking up, she nodded to the stove. "There is tea," she said. "I also took the liberty of purchasing some bagels--whole wheat, which should give you the energy you need."

His throat tightened in anger and frustration. But at her words, he couldn't deny the desperate hunger gnawing at his stomach. He'd gone without food for longer, but if he intended on devoting a full day to finding Cal, he would need his energy.

She was right.

It was painful to admit, and it wasn't just macho pride that made Niko feel that way. He did not like to think he could succumb to such things, especially not with Promise. But he hated to admit that someone knew better than he how to take care of Cal, how to find Cal, how to keep things together. That was _his_ job, and he did not relinquish it easily.

Without a word, he breezed past her, begrudgingly pouring himself a cup of tea and taking a bagel from the plate.

He did not sit, though, and eyed Promise with tense hesitation.

She appeared unfazed. "How do you feel?"

The question was pointed, purposeful. She wasn't going to avoid this.

"Fine," he ground out.

She nodded. "Sleep will often cleanse the mind. Human faculties need to be rested in order to be effective." She looked up at him, her purple eyes soft. "Even for you."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I know why you did it," he said. "But if I am to trust you, you must promise never to do it again."

She cocked her head contemplatively. "Would you have listened to reason any other way?"

Teeth clenched, he refused to answer her question. "Cal has always been my brother," he explained instead. "I have been protecting him all my life. I do not _need_ anyone telling me what to do."

With an eyebrow raised, she took another sip of tea. "You have done a remarkable job," she affirmed. "But you don't need to do it alone. That's why you called for help in the first place."

Her point was well-taken, but he couldn't admit it. Wouldn't admit it.

"I would never jeopardize my relationship with you," she said finally. "Or your brother's life. I know nothing matters more to you. Believe me, Niko."

The sincerity was there, ringing and true, and he bowed his head in acceptance. "What's done is done," he said. "Now, we must find Cal."

"Robin is hitting up some of his contacts for leads," she said. "I'm not sure I want to know what that entails. I, too, have called several, but have heard nothing back yet."

With another swig of tea, Niko put his cup down. "I know who I have to see."

"She won't help you," Promise said simply.

Eating another bite of his breakfast, Niko swallowed. Promise was probably right--she usually was. And in Niko's heart, he knew it was a long shot, even if it was his best one. "I have to try."

-o-

Most people might consider a reliable psychic a first resort, but Niko knew all too well that he couldn't use Georgina like that. Not only was it insulting to her powers, but he somehow was skeptical of what kind of answer he could expect from her.

She cared for Cal--she cared for both of them--but she valued her own ethical code more. That wasn't really a fair way to look at it, and in more rational circumstances, Niko might have understood her reasons better. Georgina possessed a wisdom that surpassed even Niko's extensive knowledge. The things she knew, the way she understood the universe--those were things Niko could only grasp on a rudimentary level. Normally he would respect her boundaries.

His patience, though, was strained when it was Cal's life on the line.

Finding her was never hard. Even if he hadn't gone to the ice cream shop during her regular hours, he was fairly certain that she would be available as he needed her. That was just Georgina's way.

When he arrived, the place was crowded, but the instant he laid eyes on her, the people around her seemed to vanish and she looked up and met his eyes knowingly. He moved easily through the crowd, barely even taking notice of them. He didn't even take the time to purchase an ice cream soda. Not today. Not with Cal's whereabouts still unknown.

As he approached, she smiled. "You haven't come to see me much," she said. "I was beginning to think that Cal's denial had rubbed off on you."

He seated himself, but couldn't return her smile. "You know why I'm here."

She cocked her head. "It's about Cal."

"He's missing," Niko confirmed.

There was no surprise in her face. "You're afraid."

It didn't require psychic powers to make that observation. "I need you to help me find him."

Her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. "Cal makes his own choices," she said. "His path is always stubbornly his own."

"He would not disappear without telling me."

Her eyes drifted around the room, and her face softened in sympathy. "He has many enemies."

"You are telling me what I already know," Niko said, straining to keep his patience intact. "I need you to help me find him."

Suddenly, her eyes focused on him again, sharper than before. "You knew before you came here that I wouldn't tell you what you wanted," she said. "Yet you came anyway. Love does that to someone. I should know. Caliban does as well. It's a game we all play."

Her philosophical musing was too much for him. He _needed_ answers, answer he _knew_ she could give. "Georgina, I would not ask you to do this if I were not desperate."

Her large eyes filled, and she chewed her lip, for the first time seeming to truly consider his request. Her head cocked gently to the side, and she sighed, her shoulders sagging. "You always blame yourself," she said finally, softly. "You blamed yourself before--every time he's in trouble. Cal is not a child, Niko. He's not some object you can rein in and protect. Even if you wanted to. Cal has a destiny all his own."

Tears stung at his eyes, and he felt childishly reprimanded. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself. "You won't tell me where he is?" he said, his voice brittle and hard.

"Sometimes the answers aren't what you're looking for."

Niko didn't even look back as he slid out of the seat and headed out into the city.

-o-

The day fell to night. Night turned to day. He accepted no drinks or food from anyone. In fact, he did not feel the need to eat or drink at all. Sleep was something not even Promise could coerce him into. Cal had been gone for forty-eight hours and Niko still had no leads, no prospects, and it wasn't hunger or sleeplessness that was making him edgy.

Promise seemed to note the change, and her support shifted. She was stolid now, actively using every contact she had, supernatural or social, to glean clues as to Cal's whereabouts. The battle over his rest was thankfully one she did not broach again; Niko suspected she could see the futility at this point.

She came and went from the apartment with a frequency Niko paid no heed to. Between her and Goodfellow, there seemed to always be someone around, but it did not matter to him. Until they had something to tell him, some news to report, their presences were pointless to him. They were his friends, but Cal was his brother, and without the one, the rest were nothing more than tools to regain the one that really mattered.

The third night dwindled into the third day, and Niko had scoured Central Park, terrorized Boggle, and even robbed a street vendor of his gold to offer as compensation. The creature knew nothing, nor did her boglets, and Niko's search kept going. He found a revenant in an alley, but it knew nothing, and Niko left it dead in his wake. Ishiah nearly threw him out of the bar after he'd demanded knowledge from its varied customers. But peri, wolves, succubi--none of them knew anything about Cal.

He'd cornered a wolf, clearly lower in the pack, outside a bar and was holding the katana to his neck when the creature laughed heartily at him.

"You mean the half-breed? The Auphe-human mix? Who wouldn't want him dead? I wouldn't be surprised if something took pity on him and just put him out of his misery," he cackled, his wolfish features full of glee in the moonlight.

Niko's blade trembled, drawing blood, but the wolf didn't flinch.

"Killing me won't help you," the wolf said with an indifferent shrug. "You don't need more enemies in the Kin. If one of us had killed the little half-breed, trust me, we wouldn't be hiding it."

He moved so fast that the wolf didn't even see it coming. The mangy head was still smiling when it fell to the ground.

Standing alone in the alley, blood dripping from his blade, Niko realized he had no idea what he was doing. Killing wouldn't bring Cal back.

He wasn't sure anything would.

-o-

How he ended up back in the apartment, he wasn't sure. Near homicidal rage had numbed his awareness, and his journey home had been stark and unremarkable. All he knew for sure was that when he came back inside, Cal wasn't there, and Niko was no closer to finding him than he had been before.

It had been too long. Too much time had passed with too little progress. Cal was _missing_ and all Niko knew was that the more time that passed, the less likely he was to ever find his little brother.

There were so many possibilities. He could have been whisked back to Tumulus, through a portal without Niko's knowledge, back to where his vengeful family was waiting for him. He could have been consumed whole. Supernatural creatures abounded in the city, so many deadly, so many still unknown to them. It could have been something as simple as a killer, a murderer loose in the city, human and sadistic, and Cal's body cut up in a garbage bag at the bottom of a river.

Cal was good. Niko was sure of that. But the universe had a stockpile of bad guys to throw their way, and sooner or later, Niko couldn't help but _know_, that was bound to catch up with them.

The possibilities were endless, each one worse than the last. It drove him to the floor of his apartment, where he paced mercilessly throughout the night, barely even aware he was doing it.

There was nothing else to do. Nothing else he could do. And the fear was damn near paralyzing.

The sky outside turned from inky blackness to daylight, but still Niko's course didn't change. His even pacing, back and forth, remained steady and unwavering. It was all he had left.

When the door opened, he didn't look up. It was Promise or Goodfellow or both but that didn't matter. Nothing matter--except Cal.

The tentative footsteps on the floor approached him, and Niko looked up. Robin was watching him, his eyes wide and sympathetic. "How are you doing?" he asked, almost cautious, his fingers running over a newspaper in his hand.

"I can find no leads," Niko told him. "Nothing. No one has heard or seen anything."

Looking away, Niko's pacing continued with a new rage.

"It makes no sense," he ground out. "Cal can't just _disappear_. But I don't know who else to ask, where else to go. Damn it, there are no _answers_, and--"

"Niko, stop," Goodfellow said, stepping forward gently, and for the first time, Niko really noticed him. The other man's face was tired, weary, the normally attractive features drawn and...sad.

It was fear that made Niko freeze. Goodfellow knew something. He had a lead, a viable lead, but this wasn't good news. His knees felt weak, and he forced himself to swallow. "What?" he managed. "What is it?"

Goodfellow licked his lips, seeming to gather himself. He held out the newspaper. It was opened and folded to an inside page. "I think I found Cal."

For one moment, Niko thought the worst. He imagined the obituary, a body found, mutilated in an alley, identity unknown. With shaking hands, he accepted the paper, holding it before him. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, for them to clear before he realized in relief that he wasn't looking at the obituaries.

He was looking at the Local News section. The major headline was about a political rally--something trivial, not a part of his world. He kept scanning, looking over the pictures, the headlines, before he came across the one Goodfellow was undoubtedly referring to.

_Local Hospital Marvels at Medical Mystery_

Numbly, he read on.

_Doctors at Greenwood Hospital are investigating the nature of a medical anomaly discovered by surgeons last weekend. The mystery revolves around a patient who was brought into the emergency room last Saturday suffering from a gunshot wound to the chest. While operating to save the patient's life, doctors were surprised to discover some internal abnormalities unlike anything in recorded medical history._

_"The patient appears to have an extra lobe on each of his lungs," explained Grant Southerby, M.D. "He also has an organ we cannot identify."_

_Apparently, the extra organ is located at the base of the chest cavity. Doctors believe it may be part of the digestive process, as the organ does seem to be producing some kind of secretion._

_"At this point, it's hard to say what its true function is," Southerby said. "We will need to run more tests and probe into the patient's background to discover how such abnormalities occurred."_

_The patient, who has not yet been identified by hospital staff, is said to be a male in his early 20s. The only noteworthy physical feature is a scar on the patient's abdomen, suggesting previous trauma._

_"Until we receive some kind of consent, we will have to hold off on unnecessary medical procedures," Southerby said. "We also need to wait until the patient recovers adequately from the damage of the bullet."_

_Doctors are hopeful, however, that further research will reveal something to help future patients. The extra lobe could be a sign of genetic regeneration, and examining the DNA would provide insight into how organ formation can be performed artificially._

_"This could be a huge step in medical science," Southerby commented. "We are anxious to know more."_

_The patient is still listed in critical condition in Greenview's ICU._

Niko's eyes burned as he finished the article.

"He's alive," Goodfellow said. "Focus on that for now."

It occurred to him distantly that Goodfellow knew him well. The puck had, after all, seen him like this before. Before, when Darkling had possessed Cal. Before, when he'd had to stab Cal. Before, when Cal nearly fell through a doorway to hell to save Niko's life.

Too many times. He'd almost lost Cal too many times.

"Niko," the puck's voice was quiet, gentle, careful. Goodfellow was close, Niko could sense that, but he knew enough not to touch him. Not now. "Niko?"

Niko blinked, and the world cleared. He was still standing in the apartment, the paper clutched loosely in his hand. Cal was _alive_. His kid brother had been shot, was alone in some hospital, but he was alive. Swallowing, Niko's resolve returned, his steadiness driven by a desperate need to protect his brother. Cal was _his_ to protect. He'd been away from his brother long enough. "I need to see him," he said finally, his voice sure.

He was already moving to the door, when a hand stopped him. Niko whirled, on the defensive. No one and nothing stood in his way. Not when it came to Cal.

His eyes flashed to Goodfellow, who was looking at him seriously. Niko slitted his eyes. Friend or foe meant nothing. He needed to get to Cal--now. Nothing would keep him from that, and he dared anything to try. "Remove your hand," he said evenly. "Or I shall do it for you."

Goodfellow took a measured breath, but his hand didn't waver. "You can't just waltz in there," he said simply. "They won't let you within ten feet of Cal."

"He's my brother," Niko replied venomously.

"And they don't know that," came Goodfellow's even reply. "If you identify yourself, you identify Cal, and I don't think Caliban Leandros really wants to go on record as a medical freak."

Niko's jaw locked as his mind went through the logic numbly. They were already on the run from the Auphe and various other sundry monsters who wanted to kill them. The fact that they had managed to evade authorities for so long was a feat that Niko had taken great care to ensure. Besides the fact that any real investigation would undoubtedly uncover some questionable legal issues concerning their trail of fake names and aliases, and just what those names had been affiliated with. Even if they did manage to dodge a legal bullet, they wouldn't be able to avoid the medical inquiry and instant media sensation that Cal's unique biology would spark.

"They're not just going to let someone who is half human go," Robin said, his voice softer now, gentler. "The only way to keep Cal from the aftermath is to make sure his real identity is never known."

With a sigh, Niko let his shoulder's sag. All he wanted to do was to go to his brother, to assure himself that Cal was alive, but it was becoming painfully clear that that course of action was not the wisest one. "We'll need to break him out, then."

"Which won't be a cakewalk," Robin said. "Greenview's not exactly high security or anything--it's a county facility. But a case like Cal's is once in a lifetime. They're going to be guarding him to make sure he doesn't get out and no one gets in. He's their million dollar patient if all the hype is half of what it seems to be."

Niko's protective nature flared up. "He is not some doctor's meal ticket," he said flatly. "He's my brother."

The puck looked moderately chagrined. "And my friend," Goodfellow reminded him.

Taking a deep breath, Niko found his resolve again. "First, I need to get in to see him," Niko said. "Once we learn more on his condition, we will develop a plan to break him out."

Goodfellow nodded. "I think I may know a way to get in," he said slowly.

Niko raised his eyebrows.

With a sheepish grin, Robin shrugged his shoulders. "It may, however, take a little time."

At that, Niko's eyes narrowed.

Goodfellow held up a hand preemptively. "I can't work miracles," he said.

"I need to see him."

"We'll get you in there," Robin promised him. Before Niko could speak or protest. "Soon."

Niko had a feeling it wouldn't be soon enough.

-o-

A good sleep was like a warm blanket, cocooning and enveloping, soft and welcoming like a long lost home. It was peace and comfort and eternity in muted hues that seemed to spiral gently into a blissful landscape.

A bad sleep was taut and restless, marked by sweat and a pounding heart. It was Technicolor and vivid realities, careening recklessly toward an end that was as terrifying as it was inevitable.

He knew both very well, perhaps all too well, according to Niko, and this wasn't like either of them.

This sleep was heavy, empty and consuming, and devoid of thought, of color, of _anything_. Sleep was hard to shake sometimes, he knew that from experience, but even this wasn't normal for Cal.

Because he couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't _move_, and something was totally _wrong_.

Then he heard voices. Not of the dream, of the world. Voices he didn't know.

That alone was enough to spike his concern, but not even his rising levels of anxiety could break him from the tight grip of whatever sleep held him now.

"...it's remarkable, really," someone was saying. "From the outside, he looks totally human."

"Which is why we need to get inside of him again," another voice replied. "The x-rays alone will earn us a Nobel. Who knows what we'll discover after more exhaustive tests."

"But what about consent?" the first person replied. "We need consent."

Someone touched him, a cold hand on his brow, and Cal wanted to fight like hell to remove it.

"He's too valuable to us to lose," the second voice said.

"But what about his family?"

The hand moved away and its owner laughed. "Family? This kid has twenty fake IDs. I'm betting any _family_ he hasn't seen him in quite some time. Kids like this are nearly always alone, even when there are people waiting at home to see them."

Cal struggled to open his eyes, to prove this moron _wrong_, because Niko would come and _then_ they'd be sorry. Maybe that was the life he deserved, the life that Sophia had always figured he'd have, but Niko defied every expectation and had made damn sure that Cal did, too.

"His vitals are getting stronger," the first commented, and Cal realized it was a doctor. She was a doctor.

"Which means he's almost strong enough for exploratory surgery," the second said, and oh, _hell_, no. Surgery, exploratory or otherwise, was _not_ going to happen. Not if he had anything to do about it. Not if Niko had any say in it.

But he didn't have anything he could do. He still couldn't move, still couldn't open his eyes, and Niko--where was Nik anyway?

Just like that, Cal's struggles turned to panic. He wasn't proud of it--it was kind of like pissing the bed at age ten--but he was in a _hospital_ and he was _alone_ and they were talking about him like he was some street kid and he didn't know what the hell was going on.

A cough ripped through his chest, and he realized he was choking.

"Damn, he's fighting the tube," the first voice said, and the hands were back now, more of them, though, on his arms.

"We don't want him pulling it," the second said. "Not until we've attained the court order."

"He's going to hurt himself," the first said, her patience strained.

"Up the sedation," the second said, and there was movement, near, far, here, there, Cal couldn't tell anymore.

Then, his panic retreated, numbed into submission as his chest stopped seizing and his mind stopped working and oblivion took him once again.

-o-

Niko had spent so much time trying to _find_ Cal that he had not anticipated how stressful it would be waiting to _see_ his brother. He'd lost Cal to enemies before--the Auphe, Darkling--all very powerful and terrifying creatures in their own rights, with dark agendas and a deep need for revenge that Niko could barely even conceptualize. They were things that put Cal's life at risk on a daily basis, things that had nearly killed his brother, nearly destroyed his brother completely, and yet knowing Cal was in their clutches was a whole different kind of stress than knowing Cal was sedated and in a hospital.

Because it wasn't Cal's life at risk--not his physical life, anyway. But his brother's secrets, his only chance at anything _normal_ was in serious jeopardy. It was a different kind of torture. A new level of frustration. Knowing exactly where Cal was and not being able to get him out. It was like having Darkling tied up in a chair, donning Cal's body, and not being able to talk to his little brother.

Promise had shown up soon after Goodfellow told him the news--whether Robin had called her or she simply was reporting for some unspoken shift, Niko wasn't sure, and he certainly didn't care. Now, the vampire was standing, arms across her chest, leaned leaning against the living room wall. Waiting. Watching.

They were waiting on Robin. The puck had mentioned a possible lead, and Niko had wasted no time in ordering the puck to explore it. He'd disappeared from the apartment with a vague promise to return _soon_. Vague or not, it was a promise that Niko knew Goodfellow would keep. At the risk of his own safety and life.

To her credit, Promise said nothing, merely let Niko be. They had barely moved, barely even communicated in the hours Goodfellow was gone, and Niko was still pacing the floors when Robin knocked once at the door and entered.

Immediately, his pacing stopped.

The puck looked flushed, a bit harried and maybe out of breath. "It took some doing," he said. "But I think I've found a way in."

Tensed, Niko needed more than that. "And?"

"And nothing," Goodfellow said, shutting the door. "It's all I've managed to do for now. Cal is under tight surveillance. Getting you an in was enough of a task. That's all I've gotten done so far."

"But we need to get him _out_," Niko demanded, moving toward the puck, anger in his motions.

It was Promise who intervened, sighing a little, her face softening. "We'll get him out of there," she told him. "You know we will."

The compassion in her voice was so tempting, soothing. But he could not be satiated by it. Nothing would appease him, nothing until Cal was back in the apartment where he would not leave Niko's ever-watchful eye again for quite some time.

Her face tightened with a sad smile and she rested a hand on his cheek. "I'll keep them busy," she said, letting her fingers linger before dropping them to her side. "Maybe I can even glean some information as to Cal's condition and their intentions."

At this, Goodfellow made his presence known. "They're not likely to tell you anything," he said. "They want grant money, and are afraid of anyone who might threaten them."

Promise turned her purple eyes to him. "I have made many generous contributions to the hospital for medical exploration. If they are interested in my support in this venture, I will require some details," she said primly, smoothing her dress. "You do your part, and I will do mine. We'll meet here again in two hours?"

It was Robin who nodded his assent. Niko, for once, had no role in the planning, none in the execution. He was at the mercy of his friends' connections, relying wholly on them to assist him in getting Cal out. It was an uncomfortable position. Cal was his responsibility. He trusted his friends, but sharing his load ran counter to everything inside of him, almost wounded his pride, if he were honest with himself.

Promise lingered for a moment, resting a hand on Niko's arm. She gave him a brief squeeze before donning her cloak and exiting the apartment.

Still dumbstruck, Niko didn't move, not even as Goodfellow approached him.

"You're Dr. Eli Konokovich," Robin said, a little tentative, handing him a badge. "Visiting surgeon from the Czech Republic. You specialize in medical abnormalities, which is why they're granting you limited access to his charts."

Equally tentative, Niko took it, fingering it. "How did you obtain it?"

"A few favors," he said. "Not only do I have ins with the hospital staff, but I know a fellow who can conjure up fake ID's out of nothing."

Niko examined the badge, noting his own scowling face on it. "And they will permit me see him?"

"The head ICU nurse rather fancies me, though I must admit, I think she is somewhat past her prime," Goodfellow explained with a shrug. "Your brother owes me for pulling that favor."

"Somehow, I doubt it was too painful for you," Niko replied blandly.

A grin crossed Robin's face. "Indeed, and the room was quite dark," he reminisced.

Niko suppressed a sigh. Goodfellow's help was undoubtedly useful, though Niko could do without Goodfellow's excessive preening. "How long will I have?"

Goodfellow's focus came back. "Not long, I'm afraid," he said. "Anne told me you could probably have fifteen minutes alone with him. He's being monitored closely by the staff, so that's all the time there is between his checks."

Fifteen minutes. It didn't seem like nearly long enough. After days of being apart from his brother, he was only allowed fifteen minutes to assure himself of his brother's relative well-being.

Running a hand through his hair, Robin seemed to give himself a good once over in the mirror before turning back to Niko. "You ready, Doctor?"

Niko cocked on eyebrow. "Let's go."

-o-

He had not expected a warm welcome, but Niko had to admit, the cool distance with which he was regarded was a bit surprising. He was, after all, a visiting surgeon--at least, as far as the staff was concerned. Visiting surgeons, he had thought, would be treated with dignity and open arms. Either this staff was not friendly, or Cal's case was more guarded than he'd even suspected.

For the most part, he was ignored. When he wasn't ignored, he was given begrudging attention.

The doctor he was assigned to, one Doctor Elias Hill, was nothing spectacular to look at, but the moment he met the man, he knew that Cal's well-being was not secure. The doctor was curt and to the point and nearly glowered as he shook Niko's hand.

"I was surprised to see they gave you access," Dr. Hill say. "This case is being protected on the highest levels."

Niko smiled blandly. "They thought perhaps my expertise could be of service. I have done extensive research on the subject. The cases I've seen have been remarkable."

Dr. Hill smirked at that. "Trust me," he said. "What you've seen is nothing compared to what we've seen here. This case--he's almost not human. My case study on him will blow all previous research out of the water."

In general, Niko was the epitome of self-control. His lifestyle habits, his manners--everything exuded control and patience. But it took every ounce of willpower that he could muster to not attack the man outright. "What about the patient's identity? Is it still unknown?"

With a snort, Dr. Hill smiled. "Who cares? He came in without any valid ID to speak of. He's the perfect case. Poor bastard doesn't have a legal connection in the world to stand on and more medical abnormalities than you can even _imagine_. He's my golden goose. So I think you can understand why I'm reluctant to share anything with you."

The smile on Niko's face was tight and measured. His cover was paramount. Just for a few more minutes. "I have been granted full access to his files."

Dr. Hill's smile fell at that and he regarded Niko coolly. "If you want to wait at the nurse's station, I'll have Lydia provide copies for you. She will monitor you while you view them. Fifteen minutes with them--no more, no less. Understood?"

It wasn't nearly as informative as he'd hoped. It didn't matter. His interest in Cal was not his physiological "abnormalities" but his safety. He wanted to see his brother--the charts would tell him nothing of interest. So parting ways with Dr. Hill would only make his task easier. He smiled again, easily this time. "That would be perfect," he said. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

The look Dr Hill gave was dark and skeptical. "Just follow me, please," he said.

Eagerly, Niko fell into step. Just a little longer. He could wait just a little longer.

-o-

Lydia, though clearly a professional, was friendlier than Dr. Hill. Friendlier, and far more distracted. She may have been the nurse assigned to Cal's care, but it was clear from the furrow of her brow that Cal was not her only patient. Middle-aged and a bit matronly, she looked far too busy to be dealing with a visiting physician.

"His charts," she muttered. She looked up and smiled. "You get to see his charts?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Okay," she said, rummaging through a stack of papers. "Let me...oh, they're in his room. I'm going to need a minute."

She was making this too easy. Almost comically easy. And she wasn't even Goodfellow's contact. This time, his smile was genuine. "Take all the time you need," Niko said. "I may run to the bathroom and meet you back here."

A grateful smile decorated her face. "That'll be great," she said. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"No problem," he replied, and he watched as she hurried away. Part of him hated to dupe her. She was an innocent woman, and by all appearances, she was only doing her job. Not to mention the fact that this was one of the people in charge of his brother--scamming her didn't necessarily make him feel good about himself.

But the other part of him, the main part of him, couldn't regret it at all. Not when she was the only way he was going to see his brother.

Getting in was step one. Having the nurse out of the way was step two. Now he simply needed to circumvent the guards. Luckily, Niko had a plan for that.

He started down the hall, trailing behind the nurse at a good distance. He watched her figure bob and weave through the corridors before turning around to a much quieter hall. Wherein lay his next round of opposition.

There was only one guard, a hospital security worker, and even from this distance, Niko could see he posed little physical threat. Somewhat past his prime, out of shape, looking more bored than anything else.

Lydia engaged him with some conversation and was allowed in. Niko watched carefully as she came back out, nodding again as she headed back down the hall.

It looked so easy. Obviously he wasn't on any list to let him into the room, but it also didn't appear that the guard was maintaining high security measures. No check lists, no ID verification. Just visual contact and access granted.

Niko would have preferred knocking the guy clean out, but he supposed that leaving that kind of mess at this stage in the game might constitute undue sloppiness.

So finesse, it was.

The guard was a stout man, a little gruff, and a lot bored. Competent but perhaps lacking as a professional.

It didn't matter. The majority of this con would be in Niko's attitude alone.

Moving seamlessly, Niko barely slowed to nod at the guard as he approached the door.

"Hey, ID, buddy?"

Niko paused raising his eyebrows. "Surely they told you," he said. "I've been granted guest privileges in this case."

The guard scowled a bit, looking at his clipboard. "I've got no record--"

"And I have no time for this," Niko said. "My time is short here. I have a conference with Dr. Hill, and if I'm late I'm sure he'll want to know why."

To his credit, the guy didn't cave. "I just need ID."

"Would you care to explain to Dr. Hill why his lab results and consultation are delayed?"

"I'm just doing my job."

"Fine," Niko said curtly. "I need to grab my charts, then."

"Your charts?"

"Yes, I left them in there during my last visit. Your predecessor had no problems confirming my credentials."

That did it. The guard's face went tight, mouth pinched. "A few minutes, then," he agreed.

Niko nodded in acquiescence. "That's all I need."

Niko was fully in the room before he let his guard relax. Fighting his way into something was not a problem; undercover work was less of Niko's style. Not that he couldn't be diplomatic when the situation required it; indeed, he was more able at it than Cal was most of the time. But it tried his patience. Slicing through defenses with a blade was easy and clean. Lies and subterfuge was dangerous and messy. It made him feel vulnerable, exposed.

His heart fluttered in his chest, slowing again, and he regained his composure. Goodfellow had promised him fifteen minutes before the nurse would return, fifteen minutes of solitude before Niko had to slip back into his role. Fifteen minutes with Cal.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Niko turned, almost cautiously. The first thing he saw was the bed, cluttered with equipment and surrounded by machines. It took a second longer to make out the limp form upon the bed, clothed in neutral tones and draped with a thin blanket up to the chest.

Cal was always pale--no amount of sunlight ever made any difference--but now, his complexion was ghastly. Sallow and sunken, Cal looked like a ghost of himself. He'd seen Cal colorless before, after Cal's stabbing and their miracle trip to Rafferty's, but Cal looked worse now, almost malnourished. The greasy black hair fell limply away from his face, matted and unkempt on the flat pillow. Cal's eyelids were almost blue, tinged with lack of nutrition and health.

Then, there were the machines to contend with. The last time Cal had hovered near death, Niko had had the help of a bona fide healer, someone he knew could make Cal's body heal itself. While the results had not been instantaneous, they had been quick enough, and Niko hadn't had to worry about Cal's health for more than a few hours.

This time,it had been days. Days, and Cal was still lying unconscious in a hospital bed, IVs and monitors, and a tube running out of his mouth.

Very few things rendered Niko completely speechless, utterly devoid of the ability to act, to think, to do _anything_. But seeing Cal here, like that--it simply left Niko stunned.

Niko had spent three days silent and speechless when Cal had been abducted to Tumulus. This time, the sentiments were very much the same. Cal may have been right in front of him, but his brother's consciousness was a barrier he could not breech, and it left him feeling impotent in the aftermath.

Only this time Niko did not have the luxury of three days.

He had mere minutes, if that, before he had to leave.

He had never voluntarily left Cal in a time of need.

He did not relish the thought of having to now.

Moving forward, he let his eyes rest on Cal's face. "The dry cleaning could have waited," he mused quietly.

His brother's lack of response was as unnerving as anything else. Cal was many things, but quiet was not among them.

"You can also stop trying to outdo yourself," Niko added. "We could certainly do without life threatening injuries and being separated for quite some time. If you are sick of me, there are better ways to go about it that involve far less potential for disaster."

The room buzzed with silence.

"However, I realize that you do have a penchant for the melodramatic these days," Niko continued. "I may have to get you lojacked after this."

Cal would have scowled at that, full of younger brother petulance.

Niko let his eyes peruse the room again, devoid of flowers or balloons or anything personal. Here, Cal was just anonymous, a John Doe, and Niko had no choice but to leave him that way.

Leaving Cal at all went against his nature.

His watch beeped. His time was wearing short. Leaning low, he put his head next to Cal's, leaving one hand on his brother's arm. "I'm sorry, little brother," he whispered. "I can't get you out of here--not yet. But I will. I promise you that."

Cal didn't move, didn't twitch, just lay there as still as ever among the machines and equipment.

With a sigh, Niko pulled away, letting his hand linger a moment longer. When he pulled it away, it felt like something broke inside of him. But there was no choice. Cal needed to recover. Moving Cal now could be detrimental to his brother's health. And Niko would risk many things, but he would never risk that.

One more look, and Niko steeled himself and headed toward the door.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Again, thanks to those who have reviewed. It's always nice to share the Cal and Niko love :) I must admit, writing this fic totally fulfilled my need to thoroughly hurt Cal and have Niko angst over him, so it's always nice to know I'm not alone in that desire.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

Promise and Goodfellow were already at the apartment when he returned home. He did not meet their eyes as he shed the doctor's coat, letting it fall in a heap on the couch. It wasn't until he was seated stiffly in a chair at the table that he realized his entire face was taut with emotions, tears burning in futility behind his eyes.

Because he'd seen Cal. He'd seen his brother, touched him, talked to him. And nothing was any better. Cal was hurt, drugged up, and there was nothing Niko could do to change it.

"They don't think his injuries are life threatening," Robin said at last. "At least, not anymore. Anne was adamant about that. He's going to get better."

It was little consolation at the moment. "Yes, but how do we get him out?" Niko asked, his voice grinding out the question.

"That will be difficult," Promise said softly. "They're treating this case with far more secrecy than even I would have suspected. They did not divulge any details to me, no matter how insistent I was or how much money I tempted them with."

"I do not _care_ about what we do not know," Niko said shortly. "I want what we do know. What we can do. The list of our limitations is long and it does not help us get Cal out."

Robin looked a little uncomfortable, shifting as he eyed Promise, who, for her part, was impassive. The puck cleared his throat. "We know the hospital wants to test him."

"But they would need consent," Niko asserted. "They cannot just test him indiscriminately against his will. I am not sure how that helps us. We need to be focused on Cal's rescue, not the hospital's secrecy or their plan or anything else. Just _Cal_."

"We have to think, Niko," Robin said, more insistently this time. "About what the hospital has planned so we can find our best opportunity. It may seem tedious, at best, but I promise you, it's our best hope."  Niko kept the puck in his steady stare, but Robin did not waver. Neither did Promise, composed and resolute by his side. It was hard to admit, but they were right. It went against his protective instinct, but he needed to listen. Jaw locked, he flattened his lips. "So what is their next step?"

"Well, given what I've been told, they want to start more extensive tests. Blood work, bone marrow, urine--you name the bodily fluid, they want it and they want to see what's in it."

Niko scowled at the thought.

Goodfellow hesitated and went on, carefully now. "I know they want to pursue endurance tests--see how far his body can be pushed, what it can handle before it just gets exhausted. Psychological tests are down the line."

Niko's throat constricted at that. Psychologically speaking, Cal was stable enough, but he knew his brother had more than his share of issues. Being half human, despised by his mother, and taken to hell tended to do that to a kid. And he had a feeling that these doctors wouldn't want to unearth Cal's problems to help him.

"But that's all later. The next thing they want to do, once he's cleared from the ICU, is to take him back up to surgery. They seem to suspect there may be more going on inside him that's worth exploring, and they'd like to see it first hand, probably take some tissue."

At this, Niko was seething, his rage barely contained. He tilted his head, leveling Robin with a deadly stare. "They wish to turn my brother into a lab rat?"

Goodfellow smiled sheepishly. "Cal is rather unique."

"Cal's my _brother_," Niko snapped. "And no one will take anything from him without him consent."

"And if they obtain consent?" Promise voiced softly.

Niko's throat tightened, his jaw tight. "Why would he consent to being tested like some kind of science experiment?"

Promise's gaze was steady, unwavering, but it was Goodfellow who followed her statement up. "But when Cal wakes up, what's he going to say? He doesn't exactly have a way to get out of this one--he can't just tell them he fell into toxic waste as a child and think they'll let him go."

"They cannot hold him," Niko insisted, shaking his head adamantly. The world functioned in certain ways, simple ways, and he did not wish to entertain alternatives.

"Niko," Goodfellow said, and his voice was compassionate--too compassionate. "Can't you see? That's why they're keeping him sedated. They're already petitioning the courts to have the hospital named his legal guardian. They don't intend on letting him make his own decisions, and I fear that once they've started their testing, Cal won't be able to fend them off."

It made sense. Too much sense.

He set his face grimly. "We cannot let that happen."

"And how are we going to stop it?" Robin asked, his voice somewhat resigned.

"We don't," Niko said, the plan forming in his mind. "Let them obtain their consent. By the time they are ready to start testing, Cal will be gone."

Robin looked ready to question, to prod further, but Niko was already moving, determined and steady down the hall, into his room where he closed the door.

-o-

Promise had brought food, but Niko hadn't touched it. Goodfellow had returned to the hospital, _working_ Anne for more information, but was now eating absently, chewing on a decadently stacked deli sandwich and popping fresh veggies into his mouth. Promise had left Niko's sandwich unwrapped in front of him, his favorite, but he hadn't even spared it a second glance.

Not when they had business to attend to. He'd spent days looking for his missing brother. Now that he'd found him, Niko's only concern, his only focus, was getting Cal back where he belonged--with him.

Plans were flitting through his head--forming and morphing, refining and finalizing. It was plotting born of desperation and need. It was all-consuming, and he barely felt the eyes of his friends tracing his even pacing in front of them.

"Niko."

It was Goodfellow's voice, but devoid of its usual licentiousness. He tried to ignore it, his mind tuning in on the problem at hand.

"Niko."

His concentration broke; his patience shattered. "What?" he snapped, turning toward his friends and looking at them for the first time in hours. And it was like seeing them for the first time--the worry on their faces, the tiredness drawn in their features. Immortal and supernatural or not, this was wearing on them. They wanted answers--almost as much as Niko did--and if the resignation on their faces meant anything, they had had no more luck than Niko had in coming up with an adequate solution.

"Do you have any ideas?" Robin prompted. "Or are you simply going to wear away the floor until you fall right through?"

Niko ignored the joke, ignored the lightness, and instead exerted his mind again at the problem at hand. "We need to get Cal out."

"This is sounding vaguely redundant," Robin said.

"This is _Cal_," Niko snapped. "We _will _get him out."

"Unless you want to own up to your identity and out Cal, then I'm not seeing many options right now."

"It's not an option," Niko said shortly. "We have a life here. Cal is already on the run from the Auphe. We cannot avoid every civilization."

"Nor do we want you to," Promise added gently.

Pausing, Niko looked at her, then at Robin again. They were watching him, careful and calculating. They had gotten him this far, but Cal was Niko's brother. They all knew the rescue plan would come from him.

Cal would probably laugh at him right now, roll his eyes over Niko's angst. Not that Cal wouldn't understand it or even appreciate it, but because Niko had always been a man of action. Niko had always been the one _doing_ and _moving_ and _planning_, dragging Cal, sometimes against his will, wherever Niko deemed best.

Niko had ignored all rules and regulations when it suited him. Laws were moral codes that could be used at his discretion, but they had never limited him. Authorities were well-intended and necessary on a whole, but not for them.

It was time to stop soft-peddling and get his brother back.

"If they will not let him leave of his own volition," Niko said evenly, "then we will extract him by force."

Promise raised an eyebrow and Goodfellow swallowed carefully. "They have him under 24 hour surveillance."

"We've tackled worse," he said, nearly dismissively. He looked meaningfully at Promise. "Now would be a good time to use any contacts we may have at the facility."

"My contacts are not that good," she said. "No one would be friendly to us in that way. I only know humans there, ones who are more interested in money than ethics."

Goodfellow shrugged sheepishly. "Anne is all I've got. Given more time, I might be able to persuade some others--"

"We have no more time," Niko said curtly. He didn't have time to ponder, no patience left to consider alternatives. He simply needed a plan. He'd worked with fewer resources before and still prevailed. He would do it again. "We will rely on simple subterfuge and manipulation."

"And how to you propose we do that?" Robin asked. To the puck's credit, there was no trace of skepticism in his voice.

Impassive, Niko shrugged, the plan coming to him before he even thought about it. "We will coordinate the escape," he said. He nodded at Goodfellow. "You will be in charge of creating a distraction, something large enough to attract the attention of the entire floor. I assume you, of all people, would be capable of such a feat."

Robin's mouth evened into a thin line, but he nodded reluctantly.

Niko turned his eyes to Promise. "You must have the transportation. We will find a place to park, out of the way but with easy access to main roads. We need to clear the area quickly and without being detected."

Promise's eyes were steady and she raised her eyebrows. "And what will you be doing?"

"What I always do," Niko explained. "Taking care of Cal."

"And when do you suppose this will happen?" Robin asked. "Last I checked, Cal was still in guarded condition in the ICU. Even Anne says he's not fit for travel--not even by our standards. And as far as I know, we can't support Cal on a ventilator in your apartment."

"We will wait, then," Niko surmised without hesitation. "We wait until Cal is taken off the critical list and then we put our plan into action before the doctors have a chance to subject him to anything else."

Both Promise and Goodfellow appeared pensive, their minds going over the plan, considering it and its caveats. The puck licked his lips. "We'll be cutting it kind of close."

"There are no other options," Niko answer brusquely. "We will look at the schematics of the hospital, eye our best routes. In the meantime, we can visit Cal in turns. I want to be sure my brother is being well taken care of."

Goodfellow looked uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. "I'm afraid there can't be any more visits," he said.

Niko remained impassive, but it took all his willpower. "Why?"

"Apparently Dr. Konokovich's references didn't check out," Goodfellow said. "They figured it out shortly after you left. The hospital thinks it was a security breach, some attempt from an outside source to assess Cal and steal their glory. This is big for them--they need the grant money. They've doubled his security, for his safety, of course."

"You're telling me that I do not have ability to see my brother?" His words were measured, even, teetering on the brink of sheer anger.

The puck sighed. "It's a risk we can't take. Not if we intend to get Caliban out of there." He looked up and met Niko's eyes, and Niko could see the remorse there. "If there were any other way, you know I would help you do it."

Robin was a liar, he was a scam-artist, he was a manipulator. But he was Cal's friend. It hurt, it hurt like hell, but Goodfellow was telling the truth.

None of them liked it, but there wasn't a thing that any of them could do about it.

With a deep breath, Niko steeled himself, looking steadily into the eyes of the only two people other than his brother that he had ever opened himself up to. A vampire and a puck--the only two friends he had. The only people he could ever trust with his little brother's life. "Then we will wait," he said. "And at the first hint that Cal is scheduled for surgery, we will move."

Promise's and Goodfellow's eyes did not waver, their countenances did not flicker, and Niko knew if they couldn't pull this off, then no one could.

-o-

Awareness was a funny thing. Cal didn't care much for it on a regular basis. Sure, it was necessary, but it seemed his life usually required so much _effort_. He would never be an average Joe who could spend his life oblivious and happy. Lucky saps. Never knew how good they had it.

Cal's life was perpetual awareness, of readiness, of alertness. So much so that the times of pure rest--unadulterated sleep or mindless TV watching--were usually coveted times, rare and hard to come by, which no doubt was as much Niko's fault as it was the Auphe's.

All that was on a normal day.

Today was definitely_ not _a normal day.

Just because oblivion could sometimes be appealing didn't mean that he wanted to be _trapped_ there. He liked the choice of being able to _leave_.

That was a choice that was still being denied to him.

This time, however, he was at least aware enough to recognize that, which was an improvement. That, and he could remember things. Like that he was in a hospital. And he'd been shot. That breathing wasn't really the easiest thing in the world at the moment. And damn it, he was _alone_.

,

So his memory was still intact, but that sure as hell didn't make the memories any easier to make sense of. Because, okay, getting shot--well, he could remember that. The whole twitchy gunman and hysterical cashier. He'd played hero, much to his own dismay, and apparently this was his thanks for his good deed. Screwed the hell up in a hospital, flat on his back with tubes and wires in every nook and cranny of his body, including one that seemed to be uncomfortably crammed down his _throat._

Okay. So maybe that much he could get. But that didn't explain the docs and their creepy bedside conversation. Tests? Exploratory surgery?

Anyway, last he checked, hospitals were _not_ for him. Not for some freakish half-Auphe experiment. Niko would never stand for that kind of crap.

Which really was the problem.

Niko wouldn't stand for it, yet it was happening. Because Niko wasn't _here_.

Cal prided himself on being an adult and independent and capable, but, _damn_. He wanted his brother.

That alone was all the incentive he needed to push back the waves of sleep that seemed to be suffocating him. Enough to make him open his eyes.

The result wasn't as instantaneous as he wanted, and it took a good minute before his eyes really cleared. It took another moment after that for him to make sense of the room around him.

He'd seen hospitals before--on TV. He wasn't sure he'd actually been in one. Sophia sure as hell wouldn't have sprung for one and Niko had been far too smart to risk taking him to one, so that left them up to his imagination. And he had to admit, this looked pretty much like he expected--neutral, dim lights, machines every which way. The only thing missing was some hot chick weeping at his bedside or someone wringing his hands while angsting for him to wake up.

All in all, it was rather anticlimactic, and really, maybe he'd appreciate it more if he knew where Nik was and if he could breathe.

He was awake alright, but he wasn't totally with it. His body was still in that heavy state, where he felt like his limbs were cased in concrete. He could look around, blink a little, but beyond that, he was completely helpless. Which really wasn't ideal, not that he was sure what he wanted to do if he did have full control of his body.

His musings stopped short, when the door opened. It was hard to see because he still couldn't really move his head, but the white coat-clad figure made his way to his bedside and picked up his chart. He was in the middle of several notations when the guy finally noticed that Cal was, in fact, staring at him.

"You're awake, I see," the guy said, which was far too obvious a statement from a man who was _supposedly_ well-educated. On top of that, his voice was really far too friendly for a guy that Cal had never met and that he sure as hell didn't trust.

"My name is Dr. Hill," he said. "I was the surgeon who operated on you after you were shot."

Cal just stared, not that he could do much else. It didn't matter where this guy had looked inside of him, Cal didn't trust him. He couldn't. Not with the guy's short-cut bleached-blonde hair and winning smile. There was something damn sinister about this guy and Cal didn't need his Auphe sensitivity to figure that out.

"I will also be in charge of your ongoing care," he said.

Ongoing? Somehow, Cal didn't like the sound of that.

"You're getting stronger, but we're still very concerned about the possibility of infection," the doctor explained. "That's why we've kept you on the ventilator--to be sure your lung heals sufficiently. It's also the reason for the sedation, which I'll be sure to administer to you before I leave. If you become much more aware, you'll fight the tube, and that would be most unpleasant."

It would be more unpleasant if Cal rammed his shoe up this guy's pompous ass. Unfortunately, he'd have to work on the whole moving thing before he got there.

"We have a lot planned for you," he said. "You're quite the interesting fellow, but you can tell us more about that after the exploratory. I imagine we'll be spending lots of time together. The courts have granted us legal guardianship, since we couldn't find your true identity. These tests are for your own good. We need to know what we're dealing with, what you've got going on inside of you--and what dangers that may or may not cause you."

Dangers? Like the ability to make rifts in time and space? That was something he could control--usually. It wasn't like he was about to implode from the inside out. Sure, his Auphe daddy had tried without success multiple times and Cal was sure he had many painfully defunct half-siblings buried out there somewhere, but there was nothing _physically_ wrong with him. As for the psychological mess, well, that was Cal's business and his alone and if anyone was going to protect him, it was going to be Nik. And why did Cal get the distinct feeling that these tests were _not_ about him?

"When you wake up from that, we will remove you from sedation," he said. "Once your body has healed, we can move into other things." The grin broadened. "We have great things planned. You'll be famous. Medical marvel. I'll save you the news clippings."

News clippings? Famous? None of that was good--at all. All the publicity would just make him a sitting duck for his disgruntled Auphe relatives and it sure as hell didn't sound like Dr. Happy was ready to let him go on his merry way when this was over.

_This_ was why they'd avoided hospitals. Right here. The _medical marvel_. Science couldn't look the other way with Auphe anatomy apparently, and it looked like that was going to take away what little freedom he had in life. It was going to keep him sedated, trapped, secluded--away from Niko. The more famous he got, the harder it would be for Nik to break him out.

Because Nik would try. He knew that. As soon as Niko caught word of where he was, he didn't doubt his brother would be there.

So where the hell was he? He needed to get out of here now--before it was too late.

The doctor was still talking, smiling, rambling and walking to the IV. Cal's eyes followed him, desperate and pleading. Surely, this guy could have _some_ compassion. Surely, he wouldn't keep Cal from his family.

But that was exactly what he was doing, Cal realized as he watched the doc inject something into his IV. He was keeping Cal out, keeping Cal under until he had no choice but to follow along, until there was no way he could get out of here and go back to his normal, screwed-up little life.

The drugs were fast, and they were good and Cal fought a sudden urge to cry. He might never see Niko again. He might be stuck here, and he couldn't even move, he couldn't even stay awake...

His eyelids were drooping, and his awareness was fading again, fast and silent and any struggle he had was futile as it all went away again.

-o-

The hardest part was waiting.

Patience was a virtue that he'd elucidated to Cal frequently, but there was a difference in being patient for the right girl to come along and waiting for the prime opportunity to break one's little brother out of the hospital.

And perhaps it was not so much the waiting, but it was how utterly disconnected from Cal he was while he waited. He'd sat by his brother's bedside through numerous ailments and injuries. He'd nursed Cal, fed and bathed him, and Cal had scared him more times than he could count, but at least Niko had always been there. As though he believed as long as he was next to Cal, as long as he could touch his little brother and talk to him, then Cal would never leave.

Knowing Cal was drugged up and hurt in some cold and sterile _hospital_ where Niko had no access to him was pure torture.

Promise and Goodfellow stayed with him, coming and going in even increments. Promise merely sat near to him, brought him food and drink, but was otherwise silent, letting her presence alone offer the solace she knew Niko would never accept. Goodfellow came with loud stories and dirty jokes, sprawling over the furniture and making every attempt to cajole Niko from his misery by sheer annoyance alone.

They both cared; it was that simple. They both worried about him, and he knew they both worried about Cal. This waiting game was easy on none of them.

But there was nothing any of them could do. The plan was in place. The details were ironed out. All they needed was confirmation from Goodfellow's nurse companion that Cal was scheduled for surgery. Until then, they couldn't risk it. Niko's cover was already blown, and the security surrounding Cal had doubled according to Goodfellow, ever since the hospital had attained legal guardianship. They couldn't afford getting caught. Loitering at Cal's bedside would have made Niko feel a lot better, but it would only put Cal's escape at risk.

His brother was running from enough things. He didn't need doctors and the media on top of it all.

So, waiting. Far too much of it.

He'd already scoured the apartment, cleansing every nook and cranny under Promise's patient eye. Goodfellow had merely raised his eyebrows as he reorganized his books in ascending order by size in the cheap bookshelf in the living room.

Finally, he pulled out his weapons, starting with his own, all neatly arranged in the back of his closet. Knife by knife, he extracted them from their sheaths, sharpening them to a dangerous point before polishing them until his reflection was vividly clear in their silver blades.

He replaced each one in order, hanging them purposefully, carefully, and feeling emptier with each one.

Restless, he went to Cal's room, sifting through the mess until he found most of the pieces of Cal's equally impressive weaponry collection. There were far more guns, and none of the knives seemed to still have their sheaths, though Niko knew they all existed somewhere.

It didn't matter.

He set to work, thorough and tedious, gun by gun, knife by knife, until his brother's collection was splayed neatly on Cal's dresser.

He was so focused, so intent, that he was out of weapons to clean before he was ready. Breathless, he looked around, desperate for more, for _something_ to do, something to make him feel less impotent.

But there was nothing. Nothing he could do. Nothing to be done.

This was Cal's room, Cal's space, but Cal wasn't here.

Just Niko. Niko and Cal's weapons, neatly laid out, a gleaming island of cleanliness in his little brother's room.

Niko's heart skipped a beat.

Cal would never stand for it. He'd gripe and whine and toss some clothes on top of the dresser to hide the order. That was just Cal's way.

But Cal wasn't here.

Cal wasn't here.

The knowledge weakened Niko's knees and he found himself perched on the edge of Cal's unmade bed, tears burning through his eyes and down his face and Niko didn't know how to care.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Niko's eyes dried immediately as he looked up. Robin was standing there, and if he noticed the tears, the weakness, he didn't comment.

"Cal is doing better," the puck said. "We have a day of waiting, at most. We should get some rest tonight, and be prepared for tomorrow."

Niko straightened, his fears passing to his subconscious. Those were idle thoughts, wayward weaknesses. There was no time for that now. Now was the time to rescue his brother. "Then we will get him out tonight," Niko said, pushing himself to his feet. "Go home, get your things. Promise will be here shortly. Call the minute you know anything more."

Goodfellow nodded, moving away from the door.

Niko gave his brother's room one more look. The empty cups, rumpled clothes, the neat row of weapons on the dresser. The only thing missing was Cal.

With a deep breath, he moved out.

Cal wasn't here. But he would be soon.

-o-

Wakefulness refused to come to him.

Which really figured. The one time in his life he _wanted_ to wake up was the only time he really _couldn't_. Whatever drugs they were giving him, they were damn good ones, and effective, too, because he didn't feel _anything_. Vague sensations, sure, and distant noise, maybe, but that soft feeling of floating was as pervasive as ever.

He could hardly even think straight, which was maybe the worst of it. He remembered things in odd fragments--a piece of memory, a flash of sensation, but nothing he could put together to form a coherent thought.

There was dry-cleaning to be done, and a suit to be worn. He could see Niko standing with his arms crossed, tapping his foot in expectation. "We don't have all day, little brother."

And Cal was carrying takeout, and it smelled like Chinese, and he was trying to explain that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't move any faster, that there was nothing he could do at all.

Niko just shook his head, looking at Cal like he'd grown extra limbs.

Looking down himself, Cal realized that there weren't extra limbs, just missing ones. Whole parts of him--gone, gaping.

He swore, trying to figure out where they hell they'd all gone to and why the hell he hadn't noticed until now.

"I can't trust you to do anything right," Niko told him.

Cal wanted to protest, but somehow couldn't find the words, because Niko seemed to be right, just like always (_the bastard_).

"We'll have to fix this," Niko said, only it didn't sound like Niko and Cal wasn't sure what he was going to fix. He was a monster from the DNA up and nothing was ever going to change that.

"No, but we might as well use it," Nik said, his blonde head talking but the voice was wrong, this was all wrong, and there was nothing Cal could do to stop it.

So he didn't. Instead, he heard the world buzzing, like some giant insect invasion, which really couldn't be very good, but sure as hell had to be better than this, and Cal floated away once more.

-o-

It was three in the morning when the call came. Niko had been in bed, but the idea of sleep was nothing more than a pretense he had adopted to appease Promise's watchful eyes.

He answered the phone on the second ring, before Promise even had a chance to rise from her perch in the chair in his room. "Yes," he said shortly. He had no time for games. There would be only one person calling him, only one person that mattered, anyway.

"Cal's condition has been raised to good. They've got him slated for surgery at 11 this morning."

"That's soon," Niko said, matter-of-fact.

"They want to avoid any legal or media snafus," Robin informed him. "The court's paperwork is signed, and they don't want anyone catching wind of that until after the procedure is over."

"We have to move quickly," Niko said, and he was already out of bed, reaching for his clothes.

"I'll be at the hospital in thirty minutes," Goodfellow assured him.

"I'll be there in twenty," Niko answered. He disconnected the call, pulling on his clothes in a fluid motion.

Promise was standing, already dressed herself, gathering her hair back into a braid. "We had planned on more time."

"We don't need it," Niko said. "It's only a twenty minute in-and-out job."

There was a flicker of concern in Promise's eyes, but she didn't let it manifest, and Niko was grateful. Instead, she smiled, slipping on her cloak. "Indeed," she agreed. "I sometimes forget how quick we can be without Caliban's incessant griping."

Niko grimaced a smile. "He can be rather cumbersome."

She moved toward him, adjusting her cloak into place before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It will be nice to have him back," she said.

Pausing, Niko looked at her, gazing into her soft eyes, her beautiful features. He loved her. She was like a prized jewel to be cherished and honored. But for as much as he loved her, it meant nothing without Cal. Cal was everything to him, his entire world. It only took a week of living without his little brother to realize just how painfully incomplete he felt without his brother by his side. "Yes," he agreed finally. "It will."

-o-

This time there were voices, just like before, but they were gauzy and distant, like he was trapped underwater or listening through a paper-thin apartment wall.

"...vitals are stable," the one voice said, and Cal knew that voice, but not well, but knew it enough to hate it.

"And all the paperwork is in order?"

"We'll be able to open him up without any legal ramifications," replied the first, smug and elitist and damn sure.

"Do you think this boy knows just how much money he'll bring the hospital?"

A snort. Short and condescending. "Do you think this boy knows just how famous he'll make me?"

The darkness was rising again, and he was falling deeper into it, sucked into a vacuum where time and space had no meaning, had no purpose. This was a fight he would never win, could never win, and Cal tried to remember if he'd ever had a chance.

Against a bullet. Against the sedatives. Against the doctors. Against the world. Without Niko.

There were no tears to cry, and he had no means of crying them, as his awareness slipped further. The only thing this boy knew for sure was that he was probably never going to see his brother again. There were some things Niko could fight, some things they could both rally against, but Niko wasn't here and Cal had no way of making any progress and damn it all if the worst part was wondering if Niko even knew where he was.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Continued thanks to readers. New Cal is almost here, right? All other notes in chapter one :)

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

Getting in was easy.

Not that he had expected it to be overly difficult. Even with the ramped-up security, the facility was still sorely simplistic and under-armed compared to many of the places he had sneaked into.

Besides, Niko was no braggart, but a realist when it came to his skill. His stealth could be frightening, damn near impossible to trace, and when it came to Cal, his efforts were heightened in the extreme. In short, there was nothing he couldn't do.

Still, the guard had barely even looked up when Niko walked through the front doors. No one looked twice at him. Granted, he was wearing surgical scrubs and kept his head low, his blonde hair tied off in back, but he would have suspected someone to at least notice.

Getting in was easy. Seeing Cal—that would be the next challenge. Not insurmountable, but no easy feat. A front door guard may be oblivious to the people passing in and out. A room guard has only one goal—to keep people out. It would require some maneuvering to achieve such a task.

Goodfellow was going to keep the ward busy. Promise was in charge of the getaway. But Niko had to circumvent this obstacle himself.

He'd sweet-talked his way in once. At this point, it was doubtful it would work again.

No, this time required something quicker and to the point.

It was a good thing that Niko's people skills weren't his only assets.

Moving quickly, he navigated the hospital. By the time he reached Cal's wing, the chaos had already started.

The increased security was more evident the closer Niko got to Cal, with guards milling the floor looking vaguely ominous while nurses and doctors scuttled about their business. Niko lurked just past the nurse's desk, waiting for his cue.

The elevator dinged, and out came Goodfellow. Their eyes met and Goodfellow quirked an eyebrow and grinned before walking to the nearest guard.

Then, he broke into song.

For a second, the sight was so stunning that Niko forgot to move. Because Robin was singing, moving with the grace of a Broadway star, and hitting perfect pitch like the mythical creature that he was.

The guard looked embarrassed, then perplexed, as the rest of the ward slowly turned to watch. Then Robin, as quick as anything, neatly disarmed the guard and twirled the gun nonchalantly in the air. Not pointing, just playing, and it worked like a charm.

The guard barked out an order and several nurses squawked. As the rest of the security team came bounding in, Robin neatly danced away, singing as he went.

And Niko made his move.

The halls were quickly being cleared, patients shuttled into rooms by nurses who joined them there.

This was easier than he'd anticipated. He only had one obstacle left--the guard at Cal's room.

Undoubtedly, this one would have sense enough to maintain his post, even with the scene Robin was creating.

No matter. Armed or not, this man posed no risk to Niko, and with the rapidly clearing hallway, very little stealth would be required.

It was a different guard than before, tense and far younger, a baby face that Niko probably could have reasoned with under different circumstances. But not today. Not with a limited timeframe and his brother in the next room.

As the lanky guard stood to demand identification, Niko neatly grabbed his arm and spun him. Pulling him close, Niko pressed efficiently on his throat.

The guard's struggles were fast, furious, and short-lived. It was a mere fifteen seconds of proper exertion before the man went altogether limp in Niko's arms.

Swiftly, Niko dragged him inside the room, lowering him to the floor behind the door before turning his attention to more important matters.

Cal.

Cal looked better than before. He was still laid out on the bed, unmoving and intubated, but, at least this time, Niko could tell it was sedation and not injury that had his little brother down and out.

But the tube was still there, along with the IVs and other monitors Niko remembered all too vividly from his last visit. Whatever improvements Niko could see and knew about, it still wasn't easy to see his brother like that. Helpless.

Worse than helpless. Violated.

He did not doubt that medical intervention had saved Cal's life. The somber reports from Goodfellow's friend had assured him of that. His little brother had nearly died, and for saving Cal's life, Niko could not help but be grateful to the medical staff. He was adept with wounds, but he was not a surgeon, nor did he have the supplies to sufficiently treat such severe wounds. In the past, he'd relied on Rafferty, a healer, or even the services of whatever non-human entity he could muster up. Anything for Cal. He would have brought Cal to the hospital himself, had the situation been dire enough.

The fact was, Niko didn't know. He knew it had been a robbery, but not how much blood there'd been, how Cal had fallen. He did not know if his kid brother had passed out or stayed awake. He did not know if Cal had been afraid or not. He simply did not know. He hadn't been there.

That was the unforgivable mistake.

One he would rectify right now.

His moment of reflection gone, he forced himself to focus, remembering their tight timeframe. Goodfellow's diversion would only last so long, and he needed to have Cal ready to move when he started it.

Hovering by Cal's bedside, action was harder to take than he had anticipated. He had been told Cal was okay--he'd been _assured _of it--but Niko could not shake the last vestige of doubt. The fear that something could go wrong. He was not trained medically. Yet the things he had to do, the actions he had to take, required a doctor's touch. The removal of an IV did not worry Niko. The removal of the ventilator did. There was a risk he could harm his brother--he'd read about the process, the vulnerability of the throat and the vocal chords.

Not to mention the fact that he was counting on Cal coming off the ventilator with no complications. His little brother had been on it for over a week, which could pose a risk of dependency. And what if the doctors were wrong? What if Cal wasn't ready to come off? What if Niko himself had misjudged and Cal needed the medical intervention a bit longer? The details of Cal's injury had never been made explicit to him, only that he suffered a gunshot wound to the chest. It was a disconcerting fact that Niko did not know truly how healed his little brother was or how much recovery time he could expect Cal to take at home.

In the hall, he heard a loud voice--Robin. The plan was in motion. And Niko was behind schedule.

He spared no time to berate himself, instead started using his nimble fingers to extract the IVs and other monitors. The nurse's station would be alerted that Cal's vitals had stopped registering, but that was what he had the puck for.

The first things were easy. Things he'd done before (well, except for the catheter, but he would leave that one out of the story he'd tell Cal later). He carefully laid back Cal's limp arm, before turning to the last task. The hardest one.

Moving to his brother's face, his fingers hesitated. Then, carefully, he pulled gently at the tape, watching all the time for a reaction from his little brother.

Not even a flicker. Undoubtedly, the hospital wanted Cal to be asleep, both for prolonged intubation as well as the plans for him, so Niko could only guess the dosage of sedatives was high in his brother's system.

In some ways, that made Niko's job easier. He could not imagine that removing the tube would be a pleasant experience--for either of them--and if one of them had the privilege of being unconscious throughout the process, Niko gladly allowed Cal that small generosity.

Steeling himself, his fingers approached the tube. He'd spent the time he wasn't pacing back and forth in the apartment studying how the device worked, knowing every in and out, researching the risks and procedures for entry and removal. Luckily, the risky portion of the operation was insertion--there was a much higher risk for chipping teeth, for threading the tube down the wrong pipe, for scraping vocal cords. While there was still some danger of damage on the way out, if Niko was careful, the chances were minimal. He was counting on that. He wanted Cal out of the hospital, but not at the expense of serious impairment.

With a steady breath, his mind flashed over the diagrams and charts he'd studied, mentally recounting the anatomy of the neck and throat. Focused, he set to work, keeping in mind the simple step-by-step process he'd broken it down into. First, he disconnected the tube from the ventilator, working the mechanism until it was free.

He paused, watching intently. Cal's breathing staggered for a moment, and Niko's own heart froze in his chest. He waited--Cal made a choking noise, deep in his chest, and his body shuddered a little with the movement.

Then, a ragged inhale through the tube. Out again. Then in.

Cal was breathing.

Niko couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face. "That's it, little brother," he murmured.

But he was still only half done. The next part was more complicated, though he'd already passed the greatest hurdle of making sure Cal could sustain himself off the machine.

There was no time to spare. With easy, fluid motions, one hand gripped his brother's jaw. The other grasped the tube. Following the arc of Cal's throat, he pulled forward, feeling the tube slide. Prying open his little brother's mouth, he threaded the tube out, mindful of Cal's tongue and mouth.

When it was free, Cal lurched a little, his breath catching momentarily, before a grating cough made its way through his brother's system. Niko tensed, waiting. If Cal couldn't handle this, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He wanted Cal out of there, but--

But nothing.

With a soothing touch, Niko laced his fingers in his brother's hair, leaning down close to whisper in his ear. "Easy, Cal," he said. "You just need to breathe."

It took a few second, a few long seconds, but his brother's body obeyed, and the coughing subsided into harsh breathing. It was not ideal, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it would do.

A racket in the hall arose, but distant, and Niko knew time was short. Robin was good, but timing was everything, and Niko would be damned if the plan would fail because of his own sentimental musings.

With Cal detached from the medical intrusions, Niko hurriedly adjusted the blankets over his brother, pulling them full and up over Cal's head.

"Sorry, little brother," he muttered lightly. Cal would balk at playing dead. Niko could not bring himself to care much, though, because either he was wheeling Cal out under a sheet or hauling him out over his shoulder, with all of Cal's backside exposed. In terms of humiliation, the sheet probably would be preferable—not to mention less noticeable.

The fact that Cal was still in an ICU bed helped matters—all he had to do was unlock the wheels and move. Without wasting any more time, Niko maneuvered his brother's bed to the door.

Cracking it open, he peeked out, pleased to see the hall devoid of hospital staff. Clearly, Goodfellow's diversion was working.

Without hesitating any longer, he pushed the door all the way open, guiding Cal's bed into the hallway.

Once clear of the door, Niko set a brisk pace in the opposite direction of the commotion. He needed to clear the area, but not at the cost of attracting undue attention to himself.

With measured strides, he circled the ward, slowing as he heard voices. Willing himself to ease his pace, he rounded the next corner at a casual gait, so calm and normal that Niko almost felt sick with his act. Two nurses were walking his way, shaking their heads, looking over their shoulders, undoubtedly still discussing the climax of the commotion Goodfellow had caused. Giving them a perfunctory nod, Niko dared them to stop him, dared them to check.

They merely nodded back, though, too busy with their own work to question Niko's white coat and the sheet-covered body he pushed. Just another mortuary technician and a poor soul that did not make it.

Perfect.

Moving forward, he could hear Goodfellow still, distantly, but the puck was good—the action had been contained far enough from Cal's room and the elevators to facilitate Niko's escape.

It was all going so well. Too well. It almost made Niko nervous. They had planned meticulously, Niko had made sure of that, and it was nearly foolproof—but this was Cal. He let his eyes linger on his brother's still form. This was for Cal. There was no room for mistake. There was no lesser outcome he'd be satisfied with. Just complete success. Just Cal healthy and out of the hospital and _free_.

The elevator door dinged, and Niko rolled Cal inside. Niko still refused to breathe, though, not until the elevator doors slid shut in front of him and it lurched to a start to the basement, to freedom, to anyplace away from here.

-o-

The elevator was only the first step. It was a crucial step, but as the numbers flickering signaled their descent, Niko had to remind himself that they weren't out of the woods yet.

In fact, though getting off the floor was perhaps his most trying task, getting out of the hospital was indeed paramount. Because, though Niko could not imagine what medical marvels his little brother could uncover, he was already painfully aware of just how far some people would go to exploit Cal in the name of science.

Maybe Sophia had been right not to trust doctors. Niko knew full well his mother had resisted traditional medicine due to its high price tag; yet it seemed to Niko that the two went hand-in-hand. Where there was profit, there was corruption. He'd take the supernatural healing of a Jeftichew any day.

However, where there is not profit, there is not a strong reason to stay. Jeftichew had his own issues to work out, his own charges to keep.

Niko could appreciate that. Gently, Niko laid a hand on his brother's chest, feeling for the heartbeat he knew was there. A little fast, but steady.

Cal shifted ever so slightly, and Niko leaned down close. "Easy, Cal," he murmured. "Just a little longer."

Cal stilled, his breathing relaxing slightly, and Niko patted him grimly.

The doors dinged, and Niko sucked in a deep breath. They were halfway there. He'd taken Cal this far; he wouldn't fail him now.

He moved almost on autopilot. His memory was flawless in this regard, and his execution would be the same. It had to be where Cal was concerned. They were going to leave this hospital together—at any price. The metal detector at the front door had made him leave most of his typical weaponry at home, but he knew tricks that the metal detectors could not sense, and he would not hesitate to use them.

Moving down the hall, Niko nodded benignly at the staff he passed. They were still calm—no one knew yet. No one suspected. Especially not him. Not the dead body.

The trick was getting Cal out of the hospital. Dead bodies were fine for corridor passage, but he couldn't just wheel Cal on a stretcher into the street.

He turned into the designated corridor and couldn't help but smile. Promise had been there, and the wheelchair was exactly where she promised.

Casually, almost invisibly, Niko flipped the sheet down, revealing Cal's face and shoulders. Moving the bed against the wall, as was the practice in the busy hospital, he then moved to Cal's side.

Carefully, but fluidly, Niko pulled Cal up, minding his little brother's head as it flopped backwards, limp on his neck. Crooning gently, Niko straightened him, peering hopefully into Cal's face.

Cal whimpered a little. The drugs still had a hold on him, clearly, and Niko did not doubt that pain lurked right beneath the bliss of the sedatives.

"Almost there," Niko said. "Just a little more."

With Cal seated upright, his legs dangling over the edge, Niko glanced around. No one seemed to be noticing them, and Niko took satisfaction in seeing other patients strewn on gurneys through the busy corridors.

Looking back at Cal, Niko resisted the urge to baby his brother, to smooth his hair out of his face, to get a good look at his brother. There'd be time for that later, but for now—

With measured movements, Niko laced a hand under Cal's knees, using the other to support his brother's back. Cal was no lightweight by any stretch of the imagination, but lifting Cal seemed effortless, and Niko couldn't help but relish the warmth of his brother's skin against him as he hoisted him up.

Cal's head lolled against him, his brother's dark hair tickling his face. Quickly, Niko bent his knees, depositing his little brother into the waiting chair. Getting Cal to stay upright was a bit of a chore—his brother's loose limbs offered no support, and his head dipped forward. Niko kept a steady hand on Cal's shoulder, trying discreetly to keep the kid from flopping forward on his knees.

Then, he moved. There was no time to delay. It wouldn't be long until the entire hospital was on alert.

He could see it happening, almost in slow motion. They knew Cal was gone. Their first step would be to lock down the ward and seal the exits. It wouldn't take long for the message to be sent…not long, but long enough.

Sunlight streamed through the exit. People milled around. A security guard manned his post, arms crossed over his chest, reclining in his seat.

With a smile, Niko moved forward, nodding at the man the same instant the guard's radio crackled.

Niko knew what the message was about. Knew, and didn't slow down to have it confirmed.

The automatic doors whooshed open and Niko didn't slow down, not as he heard the guard's voice lazily asking what was wrong.

It didn't matter. Because the next time the guard looked up, Niko would be gone, and Cal would be, too.

-o-

He took a sharp right, turning close along the building, well out of view from the prying eyes of anyone who looked out the windows. It wouldn't be enough cover to last him long, however, Niko knew. For a patient as unique as Cal, Niko had no doubt that guards and a few frantic doctors would storm the streets. The key was getting out of there before then, and clearing the area before local police were called into duty.

Moving briskly, a hand firmly on Cal's shoulder, he ducked into the first alley. One of the great things about the city was that unusual and suspicious behavior wasn't all that unusual or suspicious at all. People rarely looked. Even fewer rarely cared.

In the alley, Niko pushed the wheelchair behind a dumpster, not bothering to obscure it more. By the time anyone found it and put the pieces together, it would be too late. Kneeling now, Niko bent in front of his brother, putting a hand to his brow and tipping his head back slightly, trying to assess the pale features.

Cal's eyes were closed, his lashes dark against milky skin. His mouth still hung open, the wheezes for air still pronounced but manageable. The dark hair that fell into Cal's face was stringy and unkempt, even by Cal's less-than-fastidious standards. All in all, Cal looked awful, which wasn't that far from the norm when it came to his little brother.

The more disconcerting fact was that Cal was still unconscious. Niko knew sedatives were powerful, and he knew that Cal had been dosed with more than his share, but that didn't help assuage the nagging worry that filled his stomach.

"Cal?" he called softly. "Can you hear me?"

Something like a grimace passed over Cal's face, but nothing more.

Niko sighed. He was going to have to carry his brother from here. Not unexpected, but certainly not ideal. His brother's mortification would be total, though Niko would gladly hold off from any kind of comments until Cal was well and able to sulk in response.

All in good time.

He was taller than Cal and more built, as well. Besides, he had experience in this area. It all came with the territory--not just as a big brother, but as _Cal's_ big brother. His younger sibling had an unfortunate habit of getting himself injured, and Niko was not altogether unaccustomed to dragging his brother around.

Not that it was easy. Dragging Cal when he was half-conscious was awkward but doable. At least Cal's legs were making some kind of effort in the joint venture, even if it was up to Niko to keep them upright and moving in the right direction. Carrying Cal, however, required a bit more finesse. It had been many years since he'd been able to cradle his brother, at least for any distance. Once Cal had disappeared and come back two years older, Niko lost a great deal of his size advantage.

Over the shoulder was the least flattering of the carrying methods, and the one Niko had employed the least when it came to his brother. However, he needed to move quickly and cover enough ground to meet Promise in the car, so both his emotional reluctance and Cal's pride had to be secondary thoughts.

Fully steeled against the next leg of his escape plan, Niko ducked toward his brother. He leaned Cal's limp body against his, the younger boy's arms over his shoulder and his head rolling against his back. With a deep breath, Niko hoisted Cal further up, and with a deep breath, Niko rose to his feet.

It only took a moment to steady himself and adjust his grip on his brother, one arm wrapped securely around Cal's barely-covered legs. It not only stabilized Cal over his shoulder, but managed to keep the thing hospital gown in place, something with both he and Cal would appreciate, not to mention anyone they happened to pass by.

Without sparing any more time, Niko moved quickly now, turning sharply at the end of the alley into another dingy alley that intersected it.

It was a funny thing about Niko's training. How all his emotions could be bottled up so tightly within him, barely contained, and yet he was able to move with a practiced stealth few people could ever achieve. Even with his unconscious brother slung over his shoulder.

But this was his job. It was his duty. And more, it was all he had in life, and he would forfeit it for nothing. He and Cal would go out together, or they wouldn't go out at all. Those were the only options Niko even allowed himself to entertain.

The alley approached the street, and Niko could already see the car, parked just beyond the dumpster, facing toward the alley and ready for a quick getaway.

He could see Promise's small figure already manning the driver's seat. Though she preferred being chauffeured, driving was a skill that Niko was sure she had mastered years ago.

Opening the back door, he ducked down, lowering Cal carefully to the seats. The car was black, older, and nondescript. Not too worn, not too shiny. Perfect for blending into a New York City street. Undoubtedly not a vehicle Promise would normally drive, but this was not a normal situation.

Sitting Cal up against the seat, Niko then moved to his brother's legs, folding them gently into the back seat. Cal's body was pliant, his head still lolled back, and Niko slid in deftly beside him.

With the door shut behind him, he looked up at Promise, who met his gaze over his shoulder. "Drive," he said. "Just as we discussed."

She didn't speak, but she didn't need to. Sunglasses obscuring her face and a scarf pulled over her forehead, she turned attention forward. The car shifted into gear and pulled easily out onto the sunlit street.

There were sirens, somewhere, but they did not matter. The car was already moving smoothly through traffic, moving farther and farther away from the hospital. By the time the police thought to look this far, it would be too late.

Niko looked down at his brother, who was splayed against the seat, his body slumped limply toward him. Sighing, he let one hand run through his brother's hair, stroking it lightly, and shifting Cal so he was even closer.

"Almost there," he whispered gently, soothingly, in relief. "We're almost home."

-o-

They'd set up shop in Niko's apartment. Both Promise and Goodfellow could have offered more comfortable arrangements, even quieter ones, but Niko was the only one with no ties to anything, no connection to the hospital. He was anonymous, just like Cal needed to be. So though it was smaller, less furnished, and less polished, it would do just fine.

Besides, Niko didn't care about such luxuries. They were superfluous. All that mattered was Cal, and Niko was confident that his younger brother wouldn't balk at his new place of recovery—not for a few days, at least.

Promise parked the car in the back alley, leaving it to idle as Niko assessed Cal more thoroughly. Carefully, he eased his brother down onto the seat, sweeping his hair from his face. Then, mindful of Cal's bandages, he leaned forward, until he was close to his brother's mouth. There was noise from the street nearby, usual New York City bustle, but Niko didn't hear it, didn't hear anything except the heavy pulls his brother made for air.

"How is he?" Promise asked, leaning over the seat.

Niko looked up, met her intense gaze. She was worried, he could tell, though Promise rarely showed it. She cared about Cal. Niko had not doubted it, but the intensity of it still surprised him. Sharing the responsibility for his brother was still a new experience.

"A little strained," he said. "But breathing well."

He pulled back, lightly picking up Cal's hand and studying the long fingers. "No discoloration," he commented. "So air intake is adequate."

"His pulse?" she prompted.

Moving his hand up Cal's arm, he found the brachial pulse throbbing in Cal's arm. "Strong," he said, pausing to count. "And steady. His pressure must be adequate as well, but I'll check it once we get him inside."

"He doesn't seem to be guarding his wound," she said. "This many days since the injury, I suspect it's healing well."

"I'll change the bandages upstairs," he said. "I suspect he's still heavily sedated."

"Undoubtedly," Promise agreed. "Can you get him up without assistance?"

It was an unnecessary question. "Do not linger," Niko advised.

"I will return shortly," she promised. "Do you need anything?"

There were medical supplies in the apartment. Bandages, antiseptic, even a pair of IV lines with saline and antibiotics to back them up. Promise had changed the sheets on Cal's bed, preparing his room to be as sterile as it would ever be for Cal's recovery. Niko had stacked his medical books by the side of Cal's bed, already marked and worn for the relevant passages. A copy of Cal's chart was there as well, a day or so old, but with enough detail to give a sense of the doctor's questionable attempt to help Cal.

Moreover, Niko had _Cal_. His little brother was here, with him, in his arms, warm and breathing and alive.

There was nothing else he needed.

-o-

The trip up the stairs was more arduous than any other leg of the journey. Cal's dead weight felt heavy and awkward and more conspicuous than ever as Niko navigated the dingy halls. Niko didn't really believe in elevators, but for the mere sake of expediency, they were his only option today. Hauling a limp, gowned younger brother through the halls would likely attract attention, even in a place as rundown as theirs so he needed to get upstairs as quickly as possible.

Fortunately, it was midmorning, and the more respectable tenants were off at work, doors shut up tight and the hallways empty. Still, Niko did not dawdle, instead moving his brother as quickly as he dared up the stairs and into the apartment.

When he finally settled Cal onto the waiting bed, he realized just how exhausted he was. Not just from lugging Cal's weight around the city, but from the waiting, the worry. For as strong as Niko was, when it came to Cal, all bets were off. He did not even acknowledge the emotional toll Cal's absence had taken on him until the relief of having Cal back sapped the adrenaline right from his system.

He'd been running on empty for days, fueled only by his need for his brother's presence. Now Cal was here, next to him, alive and mending, and the sheer reality of it all was almost more than Niko could handle.

Weary now, he hovered over his brother, allowing himself to study Cal with some depth. With probing fingers, Niko touched Cal's brow, finding it cool and dry. His brother's cheeks were sunken a bit, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. The pulse in his neck was steady, though, strong. Reaching for the blood pressure cuff, Niko secured it around Cal's upper arm, using the stethoscope to check the pulse again while the cuff inflated.

100/60 was maybe a little low, but Cal had been in good shape when this began, no matter how often he chided his brother to the contrary. He moved the stethoscope to Cal's chest, pressing it under the top of Cal's gown, listening to the steadiness of Cal's heart and the slow movement of his lungs. He was no doctor, but the lungs sounded clear.

Cal's body stretched long on the sheets, his limbs limp where Niko had laid them. He took a moment to straighten them, gently and carefully, before turning his attention to Cal's gown-covered torso.

The gown didn't do much to cover Cal, and it didn't take much for Niko to pull the loose ties apart and pull the gown down. He let it linger on Cal's lower half, more for Cal's benefit than his own.

That was when he first saw the bandages. He had known they'd be there, logically, but it still made him inexplicably nervous to see. Gunshot wounds were serious; they did not heal overnight, and in all of the worry of getting Cal _out_, sometimes it was easy to forget what put Cal there in the first place.

Slowly, he fingered the tape, easing it up off of Cal's translucent skin. His brother didn't flinch, and Niko proceeded, pulling at the bandage until it was clear of his brother's chest.

He tossed it aside, oblivious, as his eyes were trained on the wound.

Gnarled and raw skin, pulled tight by stark, dark stitching cut across the right side of Cal's chest. It was easy to see the wound itself, the untidy redness heaped together amid the longer incision scar.

It looked horrific. The placement deadly. There had undoubtedly been lung damage. The doctors may not have been ethical, but Niko realized that not all the medical intervention had been a ploy. His brother had been gravely injured. The ventilator, though maintained unreasonably, had likely saved his brother's life.

That was a bitter pill. He'd relied on blaming the hospital, on demonizing them, making them the enemy. But the doctors and nurses--they had saved his brother's life. Looking at the wound, looking at its placement, Niko knew that had he been with Cal, there was nothing he could have done. No miracle fix from a healer. No thrown-together apartment save.

He sighed, letting his hand rest on his brother's head. "Cal," he muttered softly. "You never can do things the easy way, can you?"

There was no reply, not that Niko had expected one. He pulled his hand away, reaching for the antiseptic and gauze.

-o-

It was different now.

Okay, so that wasn't the most astute observation ever, but really, any observation was a stretch at this point. Especially when everything was so damn hazy that he couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or not.

He kind of hoped they were closed. Whatever was out there, he didn't really want to deal with.

Besides, he was probably dreaming, wasn't he? Haziness meant dreams, and since he wasn't sure where he was or why he was there, then he could add surreal to the list of weirdness going on right then, which again supported the idea that this was nothing more than a really bad dream.

Though this wasn't quite as vivid as his dreams usually were. Not as defined, not as terrifying. This was just...weird.

And there was something different. Something familiar. Something--

Cal sucked in a deep breath and nearly choked on it.

Hell, breathing wasn't supposed to _hurt_ like that. Especially not in a dream.

Then it occurred to him. Breathing. Inhaling and exhaling. That meant--

The tube. The tube was gone. There had been a tube before and monitors and doctors with crappy bedside manners and--

Niko. They were going to keep him from Niko. He'd been shot and he was hurt and Niko wasn't there and he was never going to see his brother again and no matter how much he _wanted _it to be, _this_ wasn't a dream. Not even the Auphe could induce nightmares like that.

"...he's waking up..."

Talking. Always that damn talking. So close and yet too far away from him to do anything about. Not that he could anyway, with this whole confusion about which position his eyelids were in.

"We should get Niko."

"But he's hardly slept--"

"Do you really want to incur his wrath when he finds out his little pain-in-the-ass brother woke up and we _didn't _tell him?"

That wasn't a doctor. That was...Robin?

"Fine." Measured. Soft. _Promise_. "I'll get him."

Robin and Promise. Robin and Promise and that meant...he was...

He tried to breathe deep again, and found himself coughing.

"Whoa," Robin said, and there was a hand on his shoulder. Gentle. Reassuring. "You may want to take it easy there. Though we've sprung you from the hospital, you're still not a hundred percent. And Niko would kill me if anything happened to you now."

Out of the hospital. Which meant it was okay now. He was safe now. Which meant--

"He's awake?"

His eyes needed to work--_now_. Because he knew that voice. Tight and no-nonsense and to the point--

"Cal?"

Unless it came to him. Niko was next to him, talking to him. Niko was here. But...

"Open your eyes, little brother."

Cal didn't care much for orders. He didn't care much about giving people what they wanted. Except when it came to Niko.

It was effort, real effort, but Cal didn't mind. He barely even noticed. Cracking his eyelids, the light was bright, painful. The room was hard to see, the objects too hard to focus on.

But there--right in front of him. Blonde hair. Olive skin. A smile.

"Welcome back," Niko said. "You've given us quite a scare."

There were so many things Cal wanted to ask. So many things he wanted to know. But he was too weak and breathing was too hard and damn it all, Niko was _here_.

Niko shushed him. "There'll be time for that later," he said. "Right now, go back to sleep."

Cal wanted to protest--hard. He'd been sleeping so long, he'd been forced to sleep, put under, and he didn't _want_ to. Because if he woke up again, who was to say this wasn't a dream?

"No worries," Niko said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Cal had so many doubts, so many fears, but this was _Niko_. His brother's voice was so sure, so confident, so _Niko_, that Cal couldn't help but trust him and he succumbed to sleep once again.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: And this is the conclusion. I'm glad some of you have enjoyed this foray into Cal and Niko. The books will probably never go here, so it was fun to speculate. As for this last part, Cal is a bit of a woobie, I'm afraid, but he's still strung out on drugs, so it's not really his fault :) Thanks again to geminigl11 and sendintheclowns for catching my numerous mistakes and to all who have reviewed.

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

The hours were long and Cal slept restlessly. Promise and Goodfellow came and went, with food and drink and silent support.

No matter how they prodded, though Niko would not leave, not even for the shortest of breaks. He hardly wanted to blink. Because Cal was here.

Cal was here, on his bed--home.

And Niko could only think how much he'd missed that.

He tended his brother's bedside with due diligence. Checking his vitals, rolling him gently, changing the bandages. Little things, important things. Brotherly things.

When Cal stirred some time later, Niko could not be sure how much time had passed, nor did it matter. He couldn't even contain his smile as his brother's eyes opened, tired but lucid, and met his own.

"I see you finally decided to wake up," Niko said, keeping his voice gentle.

The confusion was evident in Cal's eyes, and Niko could not be sure how much his younger brother remembered. He had to take this slow and easy. The injury, the trauma of being kept sedated, and the let down of the drugs would be a rough transition for Cal.

"Cal? You with me?" he prodded carefully, leaning closer.

Cal blinked, licked his lips and swallowed.

"What...what happened?" Cal asked, his voice breathless. Despite the progress in his recovery, his younger brother was still very weak.

Niko hesitated, smiling instead and patting him on the shoulder. "Nothing that we need to talk about now."

"No," Cal said, more insistent this time. He tried to push himself up. "Tell me."

Gently, he restrained his brother, pushing on his good side to keep him lying down. "You were shot," Niko explained.

"I know...that," Cal said. "But I was...in the hospital. I was in the hospital. And you weren't there."

It wasn't a mean statement, certainly not accusatory, but it made Niko flinch nonetheless. "It was complicated," Niko said. "They wouldn't let me see you."

Cal blinked once, twice, his eyes wandering to the ceiling. "They...wanted to do something. Something with me."

Niko swallowed hard. He hadn't counted on Cal remembering that. "It was nothing," Niko said, his voice nearly unwavering with the lie. "You must have been dreaming."

Cal's eyes were on him now, more intense, more clear. "You're lying to me."

"Cal--"

"Tell me," he said.

"When you're better."

"Tell me now," Cal repeated, and Niko knew there was no avoiding this. Cal would not be dissuaded. And after everything Cal had been through, his little brother deserved to know the truth.

Niko sighed. "They had to perform surgery, to repair the damage caused by the bullet. They discovered some...abnormalities. They wanted to investigate."

Cal's brow wrinkled. "Abnormalities?"

Niko licked his lips. It was something they'd both suspected, but had never given voice to. So few things attested to Cal's un-human half that sometimes it seemed easy enough to overlook.

But now...now, there was hard proof. Concrete evidence.

Niko didn't need to say it. Even in his weakened state, Cal put two and two together. "So my Auphe daddy gave me more than my sense of smell."

The resignation in Cal's voice _hurt_. He'd spent years building Cal up, trying to convince his brother that his DNA didn't determine who he was, that _monster_ was not an inherited genetic trait. That Cal was just as good and just as human as anyone else. Cal didn't broadcast it, but he'd struggled with self-worth for years. His trip to Tumulus had only intensified his self-doubt. Though his younger brother no longer insisted on being called Caliban, sometimes Niko could see that Cal felt like he deserved it.

"It's nothing important."

"What? You mean, no organs that secrete venom? No blackened heart that says just what a freak I am?"

"An extra lobe on your lung," Niko explained simply. "And an organ they couldn't identify. I got you out before they could perform any more tests."

He watched his brother processing this info, struggling with it. Cal's strength was still not up to par, nor was the sedative fully out of his system. His eyes glistened, and Niko felt his heart break.

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Except that I'm a monster," Cal said, turning his head away. "You should have just left me there."

It was like a bad nightmare. Saving Cal from the doctor's had been a perilous task. Now, saving Cal from the truth about himself--that was even more monumental. And so much more important.

"Look at me," he ordered.

Cal didn't respond.

"Look at me, Cal," he ordered again, this time more insistent.

Cal turned his eyes to him, full and angry and hurt. "What?"

"All they discovered in there was basic anatomy. These things are no more important than your appendix or your tonsils."

"Except that humans have those," Cal said.

"And you do, too," Niko said, holding his brother's gaze. "This means nothing. You are still my little brother, the same as you were the day you were born. I know who your father is, Cal. And I know who you are. And you are _not_ a monster, no matter who your father is, no matter what organs you have, no matter what your DNA says. Don't let this ruin you. Don't let this ruin us."

Cal was shaking, nearly falling apart. Niko knew this was the drugs, knew this was the gunshot and the recovery and the separation. His little brother was stronger than even he knew, but it was moments like these, moments where Cal's defenses were all but gone, that Niko could see just how human his brother was.

It would be mortifying for Cal later, Niko knew that, but it was the only thing to do now. Gently, he leaned over, gathering his brother into his arms. Pressing Cal's head against his shoulder, he felt his brother stiffen only momentarily before the first sob broke free. Then there was another, followed by another, and Niko held his brother tight.

There would be more to discuss later. More questions to ask, more answers to give. But for now, this was what they needed.

Both of them.

-o-

Sleep had always been an old friend. At least, it used to be. Now, it just scared the hell out of him.

Which was why, he supposed, the second consciousness beckoned him, he came to--immediately. No hesitation, no regret, just awake--and now.

He couldn't say exactly why. The last week was a blur to him--a series of snapshots of floating and disconnection. And the overwhelming sense of desolation. Of being alone. It was such a foreign feeling, something that he'd never had to face....except that it felt so _familiar_. Wrongly familiar. Like the remnants of a nightmare he'd already had.

A place he never wanted to be again. A feeling he never wanted to experience again.

Shuddering, he took gulping breaths and realized he was still at home. Still in his bed.

Glancing around, he realized it was day. Light was muted behind the shade, but it was there, nonetheless. Looking down at himself, he could see that he was shirtless but that his chest was obscured by a tightly-wrapped bandage.

He'd been shot, after all.

That was when memory really came back to him.

He'd been shot and in the hospital and he was never supposed to see Nik again. Not that Nik would let something like that stop him.

Niko. He couldn't remember getting out of the hospital. He couldn't remember how he ended up here. But his brother had been behind it. His brother had been here for him--

Aw, hell. Niko had been here to break the news. About _him_. And his not-so-hidden monster half.

The rest of the pieces fell into place. He'd been shot after playing the idiot hero during a robbery and wound up in the hospital. Which was all well and good since he was dying from a bullet wound, except the doctors that saved his life discovered that Caliban Leandros wasn't totally normal. Not that getting shot at in a Chinese restaurant made anyone normal, but they'd found _something_. Something about him.

Something Auphe, no doubt, and unfortunately for him, the docs didn't know what Auphe were, or Cal was pretty sure they would have left him well enough alone. In fact, if they knew what was good for them, they would have tied him back together and dumped him on the streets as soon as they could.

Ignorance wasn't always bliss, especially when it came to Cal's luck.

And worse, he'd _cried_. Just like a little girl. Fell apart in his brother's arms.

Because it'd been too much. Getting shot, being held hostage by unethical and insane doctors--that was one thing. And it certainly did wear away at one's state of being. Not to mention that he must have been so pumped full of drugs that he hadn't even known which way was up.

He made a mental note to never try any kind of narcotic. Not that he'd planned to--Niko would kick his ass for that--but the side-effect would hardly do anything for his macho image.

Still, he wasn't _human_. Not exactly news, but not exactly something he enjoyed reliving again and again. Thinking about Niko, worrying over him, breaking him out, all when he was some half-breed bastard--well, it was just a little hard to take. Because Niko deserved more, deserved better. And there was no point in a guy like Niko having to risk himself to save something as dirty as Cal.

But Niko didn't see the monster in him. Niko didn't believe it. Among other things, his big brother was a master of denial.

It was part of what made Niko _Niko_. It was something Cal loved about his brother, something he could never thank his brother enough for.

Something that worried him.

Because Niko's denial, Niko's steadfast protection of _him_, usually came at the expense of Niko's own self-preservation and well-being. If Cal had lost as much time as he suspected he had, that meant Niko had been through hell. While Cal's had been terrifying and surreal, Niko's had been slow and far too _real_.

And yet, it was Cal who had broken done. Cal couldn't take that back, wasn't sure he needed to, but he needed to talk to his brother. Needed to see how _he_ was doing.

A voice from the doorway surprised him from his thoughts. "You look much better."

He looked up and saw Promise lingering in the doorway. He'd known her long enough to know that she always looked pristine, yet it was still remarkable to see her. Especially when he knew how awful he was bound to look. Not that he was a picture of good looks and grace on the best of days, but after a hospital stay? And a great hospital escape? He wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

Quirking his mouth into a slight smile, he said, "You know me, always a picture of fashion."

She raised her eyebrows, stepping into the room, carrying a bowl of soup. "I come bearing food," she said. "Your timing is impeccable."

The soup was steaming and it smelled bland. He wrinkled his nose. "What kind is it?"

She settled it by his bedside. "Chicken broth."

"All natural?"

"Of course."

"Is there even salt in it?"

"Sea salt," she replied. "The minimal amount. I know Niko would also appreciate it if you drank your water."

He turned his head further, seeing the bottle of water sitting nearby. "I'm surprised he's not here mother-henning."

"He would be if I let him," she said. "I have him resting in the bedroom."

"Then why aren't you with him?" Cal asked, solicitously.

"Business before pleasure," she said, her smile sly. "Besides, Niko would hardly be welcoming of my presence when I'm assigned to babysit."

At that, Cal reddened. He needed to learn _not_ to tease Promise. He blushed far more easily than she did. But, considering she had had hundreds of years to build up her immunity to embarrassment, he shouldn't be surprised.

"Seriously, Caliban," she said, her voice softer now. "You must eat."

His first reflex was to roll his eyes, to revert to sarcasm. But he could hear the plea in her voice. Not as Niko's girlfriend, but as someone who cared about him.

Damn it if that didn't make him nervous as hell. It also meant he had no means to resist her. Not on this. With a sheepish smile, he reached for the bowl, surprised by how shaky he felt. Steadying himself, he sat up, lifting the bowl to his chest. "If this makes me hurl, I'm blaming you."

"That is blame I will take," she said graciously. "Try to eat slowly, and you should be fine."

Tentatively, he filled the spoon, blowing on it before taking a small sip.

He grimaced as the liquid went down his aching throat and triggering the dull throb in his chest.

"Is it all right?" Promise asked, studying him closely.

He forced a smile. "Fantastic." He took another boat, glancing at her. If anyone could help him with Niko, it was her. Asking, however, was...awkward. "So," he ventured. "How's Niko?"

It wasn't subtle, but it didn't need to be. Her face evened out, smoothing to neutrality. "Niko?"

"Yeah, you know. Blonde ninja-wannabe. Your boyfriend. My big brother."

She simply nodded. "You know how Niko is."

"Which is why I'm asking," Cal prompted. "I mean, has he slept? Eaten?"

She sighed. "Minimally. Better since you've gotten back."

"He blames himself?"

Her eyes lifted and met his. "You know your brother well," she said. "He somehow believes he could have prevented this. Stopped it."

Cal grimaced again, this time not from the pains of his body. "Does he really believe that?"

"Your brother is a very practical man," she explained. "But not when it comes to you. He thinks he can bend the entire universe to his will when it comes to protecting you. When he cannot..."

"Yeah, yeah," Cal said. "I get the idea. You said he's sleeping?"

"Not likely," she said. "I did send him to bed, though."  "When he's up, can you send him here?"

"Not necessary," said a voice from the doorway.

Cal and Promise looked up. Niko was framed in the doorway.

"I thought you were supposed to be sleeping?" Cal said, grinning tiredly. It was just like his brother to know the exact moment he was awake, and, though he wanted his brother to rest, he couldn't deny that it was good to see him.

"I did."

"For five minutes?" Cal snorted. "Even you need more than that."

Niko shrugged moving into the room. "There will be time for that later."

Cal just rolled his eyes.

Promise stood, moving her way to the door. "You two are a perfect set," she observed, lingering next to Niko. Glancing back at Cal, she raised her eyebrows. "Incorrigible to the end. You just choose to veil it differently."

She was right of course, and they all knew it. Niko gave her a soft smiled, couched in humor and affection. "It is perhaps our best trait."

"And our worse," Cal chimed in.

"A strange occasion where you are both correct," she said. "Take it easy. Both of you."

With that, she left the room.

"Quite a girl you've got there," Cal commented.

"She has her moments."

"And so do you," Cal shot back. "You look like crap, big brother."

Niko ignored him, moving into the room. "I see you're feeling better," Niko said, nodding toward the bowl of soup.

Cal scowled at it, fiddling with the spoon as he remembered its loathsome presence. "I would feel much better if someone would give me something worth eating," he grumbled.

"In good time, little brother," Niko said serenely, taking the seat next to Cal's bed. "You have not eaten anything resembling solid food in over a week. Your stomach needs some time before you reintroduce it to things as foul as you would torture it with."

Cal blanched a little. He was hungry, that much was true, but even he had to admit that the thought of a chili cheese dog right now made him feel a little iffy. Everything about him felt weak, out of place. Like someone had taken him apart and tried to put him back together but hadn't done it quite right.

It was as if Niko could read his thoughts. "You're healing nicely," he said. "If anything, the prolonged sedation is affecting you more than the wound itself."

He would just have to take Niko's word on that one. To him, it was all the same. A pervasive sleepiness, a weariness that seemed to seep through every inch of his body. Gunshot wound, sedation--it didn't matter. One soul-sucking situation right after another. His body just wanted to sleep, though apparently he'd been doing that for nearly a week.

"So," Niko said, and Cal flinched. This wasn't going to be a casual conversation. "How are you feeling?"

That wasn't the question Niko wanted to ask. Go figure. Who would have thought that even his stoic big brother would be reduced to beating around the bush. "Fine," Cal said, putting the bowl on his bedside table. "You know, considering."

Niko raised his eyebrows. "Considering?"

Cal huffed. So his brother was going to make him say it. "Considering the whole being shot and sedated and broken out of the hospital thing. That's pretty out there, even for us."

Cal wanted to make it a joke because laughter was the best way to avoid the angst. And really, they angsted enough as it was. The whole being hunted by your monster father's irate family sort of maxed them out on their quota of yearly angst.

Niko, unfortunately, seemed oblivious to that fact. "Can you tell me what happened?"

It was a question he'd been expecting. One that he knew had been on Niko's mind since this whole thing began. What happened. How it happened. What stupid thing Cal had done to wind up with a bullet in him and a tube down his throat. It was just like his brother, to gather the facts, assess the situation and then look for ways to keep it from being repeated.

As if it was that simple. Niko was no fanciful idealist, but really, sometimes Cal wondered. "I got shot," he said, half shrugging. Then he grinned. "Too bad my Auphe half doesn't come with the ability to dodge speeding bullets, huh?"

Niko did not laugh, not that Cal was surprised. His brother merely stared at him, patiently. "Cal."

Cal's shoulders sagged. Niko wasn't going to let him get away from this. "It was a robbery," he said.

"I know that."

"Well what else is there to know?"

"Where you were, why you were there, why you were stupid enough to step in front of a bullet."

Cal rolled his eyes. "Right, since I _wanted_ this to happen."

"I'm not blaming you, Cal," Niko said softly. "But I need to know."

Of course he did. He needed to know to regain whatever control he'd thought he'd lost. Cal had never seen Nik when he was missing. It wasn't possible, not since Cal was always the one missing when Niko fell apart. It was hard to imagine--to think about Niko feeling so helpless, so impotent. The guy was a tried and true superhero and Cal was the only chink in his armor that could be exploited to make him feel helpless.

And that was both a blessing and a burden that Cal didn't always know what to do with. Not that he didn't appreciate his brother's concern, not that he didn't _rely _on it. But damn, it sure knew how to make a guy feel guilty for something as stupid as stopping to get dinner.

He sighed. "It was nothing," he said. "I just was getting the dry cleaning. Which, did you ever find? That cost a fortune and I know Promise will be pissed if I lost the suit."

"Forget the suit," Niko said dismissively. "I know you picked up the dry cleaning. I know you left the dry cleaning place."

That didn't surprise Cal. Niko's detective work was meticulous and damn near terrifying. Especially when he was feeling emotionally invested. All that smart, ninja-like ability channeled through cold hard fear and rage? Was not a combination Cal ever wanted to see. "I decided to pick up dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, you know. Food. Sustenance. Even super-humans like yourself have to have it sometime."

Niko's brow furrowed. "Where did you stop?"

"The Chinese place," Cal said. "Something vegetarian. You know, so you'd actually _eat_ it."

He hadn't said it to be mean, but the look that flickered across Niko's face made him wish he still had that damn tube shoved down his throat. Cal getting shot was one thing; knowing Cal was doing Niko a favor--that was entirely another. For as smart as Niko was, he didn't understand the simple concept that he didn't control the universe. Not for a lack of trying, though.

"Don't," Cal said. "Just don't. This isn't your fault."

"You went there for me."

"And so what if I did?" Cal said. "Am I not allowed to do things for my big brother? Hell, Nik, after everything you do for me? I have to give _something_ back."

"I'm your brother," Niko said, his jaw tight. "Protecting you is _my_ job."

"And so it's just my job to be the screw-up?" Cal shot back.

"Cal--"

"No, Nik, we need to get something straight," Cal said. Something had to get very straight before his brother drowned himself in his own guilt. Or worse, lojacked Cal and put a leash on him in order to keep him _safe_. "You're my brother, too. And I get that I'm not some super-powered fighting machine like you are, but I know what I'm doing. And I want to protect you just as much as you want to protect me. I'm not sure you can believe that sometimes and I've never seen you when I'm gone. But you've never seen me when you're gone either. It's _not_ a pretty picture. So, I'm sorry for putting you through hell this week, but I'm sure as hell not sorry for trying to bring home _dinner_. I'm a big boy, Niko. You need to start treating me like one."

"You have people after you," Niko tried to explain, looking up and his eyes meeting Cal's. "The Auphe--"

"Are after you, too," Cal said, and he could see the fear that Niko would never voice. The doubts, the need. The dependency. He recognized them instantly, because he felt them, too. "Let's face it, bro, we're on the shit-list for about every supernatural son of a bitch out there. And I get that we need to be careful, but if being careful means not picking up Chinese, then we've got a pretty screwy life."

Niko held his gaze a minute more, and he cocked his head, curious. "Why didn't you run?" Niko asked. "When the robbery began? I know you are foolhardy at times, but you're better than that."

At this, Cal looked down. He remembered the kid with the gun. The girl behind the counter. Doing the math. "He was going to shoot the girl behind the counter."

"Lin?"

Cal screwed up his nose. "You know her name?"

"She's there every time we order."

"Yes, Lin, then," Cal said. "She was hysterical and crying and he was going to shoot and I knew you'd be pissed, but..." His voice trailed off. There was no way to say it. No way to say that her life seemed more important than his. No way to tell Niko that he was willing to throw away years of survival for some girl behind the counter of a rundown Chinese place.

Niko just smiled, shaking his head. "You really do have quite the martyr complex developing," he said.

"I'm sorry," Cal mumbled.

"You probably saved her life."

"And put you through hell."

Niko paused at that and pursed his lips. "Well, it's not like you haven't been there already," he said. "You know it's awfully hard to protect you when you insist on saving others."

"Yeah, well," Cal said, feeling himself lighten. "I know you'd probably managed to save her, disarm the guy, avoid getting shot and make dinner all at once, but I have yet to acquire those skills."

"You did well enough," Niko said softly. Proudly.

That surprised Cal suddenly. He knew his brother loved him--hell, _everyone_ knew Niko loved him. Knew Niko'd give up the world for him. Mostly already had. Niko respected him, trusted him, would do anything for him. But pride--maybe it had always been there, but Cal had never felt it like this. Never felt like he'd done anything to deserve it.

Niko sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes it's easy to forget that you are in fact an adult," he said. "And when you're missing or you're hurt--I can't even explain how that feels."

"You think you have to?" Cal asked. "I know _exactly _what that feels like. I feel the same damn way every time it happens to you."

Niko didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The look on his face was enough.

"So does this mean you'll trust me to go out on my own again?"

At that, Niko raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You still haven't proven that you are capable of eating solid foods. And we haven't even discussed bathing options."

Cal grimaced. "I'm fine."

"You need to recover."

"I think you enjoy this," Cal said, his scowl returning. "If I'm hurt, you get to treat me like a child. You should really just get a dog. They like it when you control them and dote on them."

"I'm not doting."

"Oh yeah?" Cal charged. "Then what's with the TV in the bedroom."

"Something to keep you occupied while you heal," Niko said. "Your whining is worse than your atrocious self-maintenance habits, or lack thereof."

"Sure," Cal said. "Just keep telling yourself that."

"Just wait until we start your physical therapy," Niko said with a grin. He stood, patting Cal's leg. "Then we'll see if I'm doting."

Physical therapy? He was still recovering and already his brother was talking about torturing him again. "So much for brotherly love," Cal said. "Here I thought you cared about me, when all you want is someone to subject to physical horrors."

"Just need to get your strength back up."

"Sadist."

"You'll thank me," Niko said, moving to the door.

Thank him for torture--not likely. But...still. If not for his brother, he would be some doctor's test subject. He would have been some science project. Nothing they had done to him had been as bad as believing he'd never see his brother again. That loneliness--that desolation--was worse than any pain or threat of death he'd ever endured. Being a monster--that was nearly impossible. But being Niko's brother--well, that made everything just a bit more bearable. "Hey, Nik," he called.

His brother paused, looking back at him.

"Thanks for getting me out," he said.

Niko just smiled. "Anytime."

_end_


End file.
